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swampertforever:You start to panic at the loss of your partner, left to roam the unholy grounds of the cemetery on his own… as are you. Calling out to the Panpour, you get no reply at all, the Graveyard in complete silence save for the regular howls. You try to urge him to use Icy Wind so you can spot him in the distance, but either the fog is too thick or he’s too far away to hear your instruction, and after a while of looking in the distance, you sigh and give up. Best go see what all this crying is about…

You place your hand on the handle and turn it slowly. The hinges make a loud squeaky noise as the door opens, but somehow you already expected them to. You peek inside, half-scared and half-curious, but at first you can’t make out a thing – it’s much too dark. Is this place abandoned?

You step inside; the floor tiles creak under your feet at every step, and you move slowly in fear of bumping into something. The howling persists, and the further you walk, the more certain you are that it’s coming from within the house after all, meaning you’re definitely not alone.

After what you assume was the hallway, you pass through an open door into a larger division. It smells of burnt candle, but none are alight, the room pitch-black as not even the moonlight can penetrate the fog outside to lend the place some clarity. You keep moving slowly, until your shin hits something, making you trip and fall over; you don’t hurt yourself too much, but something else does happen… the howling stops. Whatever’s making that sound knows you’re here.

You struggle back to your feet, cursing your luck, and resume marching slowly but steadily, praying you don’t bump into anything else. And then you hear it. From somewhere you can’t really pinpoint, a low-pitched growl can be heard, and begins slowly increasing in intensity… the creature is moving toward you!

You try your best to stay calm and think clearly; if only you could see! The growling gets louder and louder, and then… silence. You freeze in place, your mind racing, wondering if the creature is about to pounce and eat you alive!

Whatever you decide to do, considering the likelihood of a feral beast attacking you at any second, you’ll have to do it fast, so…

What do you do?!

((The gate itself was no big deal at all. It’s just that self-updating in general is frowned upon in the official zones, so it’s something to remember in the future. Nothing to say about this particular update, keep it up!))

Childhood Games with a Predator. As you do.

Originally Posted by MarbleZone

The Graveyard

swampertforever:You start to panic at the loss of your partner, left to roam the unholy grounds of the cemetery on his own… as are you. Calling out to the Panpour, you get no reply at all, the Graveyard in complete silence save for the regular howls. You try to urge him to use Icy Wind so you can spot him in the distance, but either the fog is too thick or he’s too far away to hear your instruction, and after a while of looking in the distance, you sigh and give up. Best go see what all this crying is about…

You place your hand on the handle and turn it slowly. The hinges make a loud squeaky noise as the door opens, but somehow you already expected them to. You peek inside, half-scared and half-curious, but at first you can’t make out a thing – it’s much too dark. Is this place abandoned?

You step inside; the floor tiles creak under your feet at every step, and you move slowly in fear of bumping into something. The howling persists, and the further you walk, the more certain you are that it’s coming from within the house after all, meaning you’re definitely not alone.

After what you assume was the hallway, you pass through an open door into a larger division. It smells of burnt candle, but none are alight, the room pitch-black as not even the moonlight can penetrate the fog outside to lend the place some clarity. You keep moving slowly, until your shin hits something, making you trip and fall over; you don’t hurt yourself too much, but something else does happen… the howling stops. Whatever’s making that sound knows you’re here.

You struggle back to your feet, cursing your luck, and resume marching slowly but steadily, praying you don’t bump into anything else. And then you hear it. From somewhere you can’t really pinpoint, a low-pitched growl can be heard, and begins slowly increasing in intensity… the creature is moving toward you!

You try your best to stay calm and think clearly; if only you could see! The growling gets louder and louder, and then… silence. You freeze in place, your mind racing, wondering if the creature is about to pounce and eat you alive!

Whatever you decide to do, considering the likelihood of a feral beast attacking you at any second, you’ll have to do it fast, so…

What do you do?!

((The gate itself was no big deal at all. It’s just that self-updating in general is frowned upon in the official zones, so it’s something to remember in the future. Nothing to say about this particular update, keep it up!))

OOC: Is giving the howls a length of time considered self updating? Because I sort of do it in this post.

Michael took one final look across the fog. Wherever Blue was, he couldn’t hear Michael’s orders. ‘Figures. Then again, with this fog the Icy Wind wouldn’t have done much.’ Sending one final wish of wellbeing back into the fog, Michael opened the door to the cottage. Of course, the handle was squeaky, and the cottage was pitch black. The teen wandered in, following the howls. He made a game of it to cool his nerves. Every so often, he would say
“What’s the time, Mr Wolf?” and listen to the length of the howl. For every second, he took a step.
“Three seconds.” He took three steps. Every step caused a creak in the floorboards, further raising Michaels fear. He kept up the game until he passed through a door into what seemed to be a large room. The smell of burnt candles drifted through the air, but none of them were lit. Michael continued his exchange with the howling, that was definitely coming from in the house.
“What’s the time, Mr Wolf?” 3 seconds. 1, 2, 3.
“What’s the time, Mr Wolf?” 5 seconds. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
“What’s the time, Mr Wolf?” 7 seconds. 1, 2, 3, 4- Thunk! The teen tripped. ‘Ow… one second, please…’ After rubbing his shin, Michael returned to his feet, and walked forward again. 5, 6, 7.
“What’s the time, Mr Wolf?” Silence answered Michael’s words.
“Mr Wolf? Are you there?” And then the worst happened. The growling started. It was quiet at first, but it seemed to pick up in volume and intensity exponentially.
“Dinner time?!” The teen turned to run, but the growling stopped. Michael couldn’t see a thing, and his fear was rising. But, thinking of his (insane) mission in the first place, he started to talk into the darkness, letting his rambling come before his terror.
“Mr Wolf? Are you going to eat me? Please don’t eat me, I’m here to help you and if you eat me, I can’t help you or my friend Blue. He’s my Panpour and I lost him in the graveyard coming to rescue you. You must be hungry if you want to eat me.” The teen rummaged through his bag. He hadn’t packed much proper food for the midnight trip, but he had a few bars of chocolate as well as some medicine. He took some of the chocolate out, and held it in an outstretched palm.
“You can eat this if you like, its part of my stash but it seems you need it more."

Mediville (Please reply in LemonChiffon)
This well-populated village and its surrounding farmlands contain many low-levelled wild Pokémon suitable for beginning trainers to practice against. Levels are only gained by Pokémon under level 10.[/color]

((You asked for it. :P))

Levin Sanders looked outside from the window of the first floor room he'd rented. Mediville... a lively little town, considerably more peaceful than the peak of Mt. Aduro, the Hotel in Phantom Isle or Cloud Garden's forest. So why had he, a tried and tested Trainer, decided to come to such a mundane place, more than one year after the start of his journey?

Because he felt he had to. Back when he was just beginning, he was filled with a thirst for adventure that drove him to areas as dangerous and inhospitable as the Glacier Islands and even fueled him to impersonate an Official League Trainer in the eyes of a man in need just to earn a quick reward. In hindsight, those hadn't been his finest moments, and he should have started out differently - slower. A proper start was something that had been missing from his journey, but not anymore; this time, he was going to do things right.

If this was going to be a new beginning, he'd have to choose his partners carefully. Min was already experienced, and he figured she'd have little to gain from joining him, the same going for a number of his older friends. A number of his most recent teammates would have no problem keeping up in a place like this either... but he had unresolved issues with some of them. And those were exactly the ones he'd have to bring along.
He looked at his belt one more time, still uncertain about his choices, but they had been made: a Pokeball containing Magnus, his Magby arsonist; one housing Hebi, his air-headed Dunsparce; a third one holding his most recent hatchling, Spike, the unruly Mankey; and a Timer Ball keeping Baal, the powerful, yet thoroughly disobedient Aerodactyl. The four most unreliable Pokemon in his entire team, but he vowed that, by the end of this journey, at least one of them would have changed for the better. He could only hope.

He geared up, put on his jacket and backpack and went downstairs. He stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and stepped outside through the front door, into the busy streets of Mediville.

EpicSquirtle: The Desert of Illusions. What would compel a man to traverse it is a mystery alone, let alone on foot. Yet one brave wanderer has taken it upon himself to cross the sea of sand and reach the villages of legend – or myth…

For a place called the Desert of Illusions, however, there doesn’t seem to be anything special about it – no visions of fabulous buildings, lush gardens, pure fountains or naked women catch your eye. Just sand. Sand as far as the eye can see.

Telpo himself is very doubtful about your choice of itinerary, and only quiets down after you hand him your water. Even then, his silence is short-lived, and it isn’t long before he complains about the heat once again.

Still, you’re certain of your goal, and not even the Abra’s protests will deter you – you will find the villages! Keeping up your pace, you face the scorching temperatures and muscle on.

After what might have been hours of travelling (who could tell?), something catches your ear. It’s a not-so-distant cry of distress, but not human. Rushing in the direction of the sound, you finally find its source: a small Numel, writhing in pain on the ground, flanked by two large Cacturne! The latter look intent on further harming the tiny camel, their yellow eyes locked on the prey. Despite the theoretical type advantage, it's evident that the tiny camel is no match for the evolved cacti, whatever the cause for this assault. What is pretty clear is that Numel is in no condition to fight back - regardless of who started the fight.

Realizing your presence, the Numel turns its face to you and whimpers, pleading eyes shifting quickly between you and Abra. Telpo is quick to translate: it’s begging for your help.

What do you do?

((Okay, now this part is a bit more boring but it’s what these updates are for: we need to work on several problems with your posts.
First and most importantly, you gotta work on your punctuation. When somebody talks, make a new paragraph and start with either – or “, to make sure the reader understands it’s a spoken line and not narration like the rest of the text. Otherwise the whole thing is a huge mess! Make a new line whenever you or Telpo speak, so I can know what’s going on. Second, you don’t need to tell me that Telpo is Abra; I have access to your Profile, it’s my job to figure it out :P whenever you type a post in a zone, make it entirely in character. Your character doesn’t refer to his Pokemon as “Telpo (Abra)”, just “Telpo”. I get you were trying to help, but don’t worry about it.
Also, make sure your posts have the bare minimum number of words: I’d prefer around 200. Otherwise they’re too short and it feels like you’re not putting any effort in them.
Finally , a reminder: you can’t control the Numel or the Cacturne in your next update, they’re NPCs (non-playable characters), meaning only the updater can control their actions. You are limited to controlling your character and Telpo. Also, whether your attacks and strategies work or not is up to me, don’t assume they’ll work please!
That’s all, have fun! ^^ and don’t be discouraged by all this advice, it’s what the Arcane Realm is for.))

''It's so hot!'' Telpo complained as Jake and him continued walking through the harsh desert.
''Telpo stop complaining, you just had a drink not to long ago!'' Jake replied as he kept on walking.
''Yeah well I'm still baking here'' Telpo replied.
''Can you just stop whining please'' Jake begged. After that the duo were silent as they trugged through the desert. After what could have been hours of traveling Jake heard an unhuman cry.
''Telpo did you hear that?'' Jake asked.
''Yeah I think it came from over there'' Telpo replied before floating off to where the sound came from.

''Hey wait up!'' Jake exclaimed as he ran after Telpo. The duo eventually spotted a Numel that was clearly in pain, flanked by two Cacturne, both looking like they wanted to harm the Camel pokemon even more!
''It looks like that Numel is in trouble!'' Jake exclaimed. The Numel then faced the duo and whimpered.

''It's begging for your help!'' Telpo explained.
''Well then it's going to get some help, attacking a defenseless isn't going to go unnoticed on my watch!'' Jake exclaimed in anger.

''Quick, Telpo use Fire Punch on one of the Cacturne, then follow up with another Fire Punch on the second one!'' Jake ordered.

The Ocean of Mystery (Please reply in DeepSkyBlue)
An ocean with many mysteries that have yet to be solved. Only those with Water Type Pokémon can travel these seas, as whenever a ship has set sail, they have never again been seen. What has happened to these ships, their crew and passengers, is anyone's guess, but few are willing to take their chances by travelling out by boat.

((I originally avoided coming here since I already had my first capture when it went up, but with Tess saying those who haven't need to, well, now I have no choice :P Hoping to make the most of this experience, writing for RP and writing novels are quite different and I often find myself wondering if I've given my updator enough to work with or if I've gone too far in the opposite direction when trying to avoid self-updating. Whoever updates me here, may we both have a good time!))

Ah, water. This bizzare substance practically enabled the miracle of life. Found in all three states naturally (nobody cares about plasma), a high specific heat capacity, sticky, polar and an excellent solvent. All in all it was quite stable, leaving fewer niches to fill and therefore less aquatic species overall compared to those on solid ground. Even though, the variety of life was just amazing. Take for instance, Justin the seel. He's a mammal, currently merrily splashing around in the great blue sea. He was very different to say, a krabby or a sharpedo or a gorebyss or a jellicent and oh no she was starting to think the scary thoughts again.

El shook her head and forced herself to focus on her seel. He was cute! And fluffy and tiny and oh no could he really hold her weight this was dumb dumb dumb! ‘Hey El why don’t you check out The Ocean of Mystery, making a discovery will look great on your résumé!’ Stupid parents and their stupid advice and their stupid good ideas and bribes. Gonna be the end of her, she could swear.

“Justin!” El raised her voice over the waves as Justin poked his head above them. “Anything interesting?” The seel just stared blankly and cocked his head. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. El sighed and double-checked her gear. Goggles— check, she always wore those, made her feel leader-y for some reason. Wetsuit – check and just a little on the tight side so it would actually work and not just let more cold water in. Lifejacket – check, nice and secure, not likely to bob off over her head. Pokéballs – check, Justin’s empty one, three more holding pokémon and a few empty ones just in case. Double check, Merri’s lure ball, Squishy’s red cyber ball and Sparow’s plain old pokeball with its distinctive dints and scratches. It’d be quite embarrassing if she accidentally bought, say, Colm and Livermorium. A purrloin and a ferroseed would be the exact opposite of useful in the middle of the ocean. Not that sparrow was either, she was more of a good luck charm.

Okay, she was running out of things to stall with now. With a resigned sigh El picked up her flippers and shuffled into ankle deep water. Yep, okay this was totally doable look at Justin he’s such a good swimmer and this was a very good lifejacket. Yup. No drowning. No water in lungs today and oh deities she was going to die horribly and nobody would know and oh look she had her flippers on yaay!
Justin was by her side now, looking up at his trainer like she was a crazy person. She probably was really, considering that she was about to go into dangerous uncharted waters with nothing but a seel to help her remain in the category of ‘not dead’.

“We’re going to go look for stuff in the ocean boy! You excited?” The seel’s fins drooped. “Tough luck, your my only swimmer and no way in the Distortion Zone am I doing this alone. Come on, it’ll be fun!” Yeah right, she was cold, wet and her nose was full of salt. But on she went, the life jacket amazingly reassuringly buoyant as the ends of her flippers left the sea floor (don’t think of that don’t think of that). Justin popped up beside her and she wrapped an arm around him for comfort. As the two went out to sea together and El’s tears of fear slowly filled her goggles, only one thought went through her mind.

This is the dumbest thing I have ever done and I am way to easily bribed by chocolate.

Forest of Adventure (Please reply in LimeGreen)
According to legend, no trainer can enter this enchanted forest without an adventure befalling them.

OOC: Yeah, I know I'm not new to FB by any means, but I still think the Arcane Realm would be a good experience for me. For all I know, I might have fallen into some bad habits with my RPing, for example, and should that be the case, this might be just what I need to break them.The Forest of Adventure, a supposedly aptly named wooded area. Legend has it that any trainer entering the forest was in for an adventure.

With this in mind, walking towards aforementioned forest was a 22-year-old trainer, who had been all over, had seen many Pokemon, and had caught a good number of them as well. He was clad in a red and white sleeveless jacket over a black t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and perhaps his most distinctive feature, a large, brown cowboy hat atop his head. Floating next to him was a Shuppet, who was not looking particularly pleased, though this was not unusual for her.

"So ac-cor-ding to le-gend, a-ny trai-ner who en-ters this for-est, they are in for an ad-ven-ture, cor-rect?" the Shuppet asked her trainer in English, albeit with a creepy stutter.

"How o-ri-gi-nal," Myrtle muttered dryly. "They had to go and take the most ob-vi-ous route with this one."

"Myrtle, you complain about everything," Keith sighed.

"I most cer-tain-ly do not, Meat Sack," snapped the Shuppet. "I on-ly com-plain when I have rea-son to." Keith rolled his eyes.

"You mean, when you can find an excuse to," Keith corrected her. "I mean, come on, yesterday you were carrying on for half an hour because you thought you saw a scratch on your Poke Ball! The Poke Ball you almost never go into anymore, by the way," he added. "And then once I managed to get in more than two words, and managed to tell you that it was one of Meowth's hairs, then you started demanding to know why I let Meowth near your Poke Ball. Thus I reiterate; you complain whenever you can find an excuse to."

"You seem to be do-ing a lot of com-plai-ning your-self, Meat Sack," Myrtle observed, smirking. "So you are hard-ly one to talk."

Keith sighed and rolled his eyes as the duo continued onward, headed for the forest, and undoubtedly for adventure.

Forest of Adventure (Please reply in LimeGreen)
According to legend, no trainer can enter this enchanted forest without an adventure befalling them.

Joshua yawned loudly as he rose from his sleeping bag. Another peaceful night at his Repose in the Cloud Garden. Just him, his Pokémon, and the silence of the forest. Who could ask for more? Still, it was awfully cold this morning. There was one complaint, he supposed. And there was a strong breeze, despite how he'd closed the windows... And wasn't his floor usually made of wood?Something was very wrong here... Oh. Yeah. He wasn't in the Repose. Right. Obviously. He sighed. This had Trucy the Kadabra written all over it. Her and her Teleport shenanigans. That girl, sometimes...

"Kadabra!" she cried as she peeked out from behind the nearby tree. Joshua gave a slow, sarcastic clap in response. Well, at least he'd slept in his clothes, and his bag was right beside him. She'd had the sense to teleport that stuff with him. Still, he had to wonder - where on earth was he? Still the forest in the Cloud Garden? No, the trees were definitely different species... This was a new forest entirely.

"Trucy, where exactly have you sent us?"

"Kad-ab-abra."

"... Yeaaaaah, I didn't catch that one. Your telepathy needs work." Joshua gave a little groan. Well, surely they could just Teleport back, right? Then again, might be a nice chance to explore... As long as everything didn't try to kill him. That seemed to happen to him a lot on his adventures. "If we're here, we're going to make the most of it Truce. Besides, we haven't had a proper chance to explore something together yet. And you never know, maybe we'll find a clue as to you-know-what."

This was something Joshua and his Pokémon had been discussing recently - what was their goal in adventuring? Sure, seeing the world and aimlessly wandering was fine, but it would be nice to have some kind of plan. Through discussions (his Pokémon's thoughts had been relayed to him via Munna's telepathy), Joshua had settled on searching for the legendary Pokémon Celebi, the guardian of time. If he could even catch a glimpse of it, he would be satisfied. Celebi was supposedly a forest dweller, so this unfamiliar forest was certainly worth a shot. "Let's go. We can head back to the Repose later. For now, I think we should look for some breakfast."

Originally Posted by scytherdude30
no no no you need an empoleon as your powerhouse da listen to me man I AM THE BOMB

Originally Posted by Zincspider

Yes, someone is getting 'killed'... HOORAY FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!....

Forest of Adventure (Please reply in LimeGreen)
According to legend, no trainer can enter this enchanted forest without an adventure befalling them.

Cherith the Purrloin was in a very weird situation. His trainer, a young woman by the name of Noriko, had had the bright idea of spending some time with the Purrloin, just the two of them – which had lead the duo to venture into a forest of some kind. Despite the objections from Kitty the Skitty, the kitten had been left in her Pokéball, as she was “an effective distraction from our alone time”, as Noriko had put it. In other words, thought Cherith, a source of any kind of fun, which we can’t have here, since you obviously want to bore me to death.

The Purrloin stepped on a leaf and sighed, already bored out of his mind with no younger team members to tease and make fun of. Or lure into traps. Or use as scapegoats. Not even any shiny objects around; Purrloin had to wonder what on earth his trainer had been thinking.

“Hey Cherith, I know you’re bored, but at least here you don’t pickpocket everything that moves.” The feline turned to his trainer. Noriko kneeled down and wagged her finger in front of Cherith. “And I know you think it’s all fun and games, but maybe a bit of responsibility would set an example for the- hey, I’m still talking to you!” The Purrloin had already turned around and moved on ahead, having grown tired of the preaching about making friends and playing nice. It was so utterly…boring. He headed for the bushes, hoping to find a source of amusement, or maybe some fellow Pokémon to pick on. Well, anything but talking about the joys of being a goody-two-shoe.

Noriko sighed and started walking after her partner. “Least you don’t have a thing for climbing up trees, you little criminal. But we’ll get that nice Purrloin out of you, just you wait.”

I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling. Gotta make you understand.

Welcome to the Arcane Realms, gentlemen! Seeing as the three of you are no strangers to love Fizzy Bubbles, you know the rules, and so do I. That said, I will likely hold the three of you to a higher standard as a result of your status as veterans, so please bear that in mind. Thus far, your intros have been fine, so let’s start with the mayhem, shall we?

Mediville

MarbleZone – Levin Sanders was by no means a rookie trainer by Fizzytopian standards; indeed, the young man had not only accumulated an impressive and diverse team of Pokemon, but he had embarked upon a great deal of traveling in various locations across the region. Why, then, would a trainer so accustomed to the heart-pounding, life-threatening adrenaline rush of adventuring choose the peaceful, friendly town of Mediville for his visit to the Arcane Realms? In Levin’s mind, the answer was simple. Unlike many other trainers, who were introduced to the concept of traveling alone with one’s Pokemon partners by starting off in a relatively non-threatening location where young trainers could get acquainted with battling alongside their new companions and exploring as a team, Levin was thrown into some very difficult situations from the get-go, which included sub-zero temperatures, saving a young boy who had fallen into a trap, and the constant of being eaten by a group of haughty Jellicent, among other things… So when the Fizzytopian government letter arrived in Levin’s mailbox, mandating that all trainers who had not yet visited the Arcane Realms do so immediately, Levin saw an opportunity to have a fresh start for himself and his Pokemon. This time, Levin was going to take some of his youngest, most inexperienced Pokemon, and hopefully forge a stronger bond with at least one of them in this quaint little city. After all, as an experienced trainer, Levin could spot opportunity from a mile away. Perhaps he could help out some poor farmer with his sick Mareep, or engage in a battle with some young trainers in the square. The possibilities were endless, and Levin was more than capable of keeping his eyes and ears open in the pursuit of an appropriate adventure for himself and his carefully selected partners.

Levin gears up as he has done in the past, making his way down the stairs of the inn in which he was staying. Pokeballs equipped and ready to go, he pauses for a brief moment to breathe in, and though the breath feels oddly hollow, he ignores the lack of sensation and flings open the door. It is at this exact moment that Levin’s mind suddenly becomes weighted down with an odd sense of doubt. Looking back into the entryway, he somehow finds himself doubting what he sees; were the walls in the entryway really blue? Weren’t they white before? It was a strange thought, and yet, it was difficult to shake. Certainly, there were explanations… Perhaps it had been painted while he was upstairs, but no, that did not seem to make any sense. Either way, Levin was intent upon finding adventure, and he steps out into the street, where another strange, seemingly inconsequential thought strikes him. The room, in which he woke up… Why did the lamp on the table look like the one from his childhood home? The lamp that had been there before was… No, no, perhaps he was misremembering, and the establishment simply a lamp that looked like the one he remembered and he simply had not noticed it before. There was nothing too peculiar about that.

As Levin looks out onto the street, the faded, vague impressions of faces going by in a blur as people travel to and fro strike Levin with a vague feeling of familiarity. Somehow, each person that Levin sees, and each Pokemon scampering at a trainer’s feet or flying in the distance, fills him with the oddest sense of déjŕ vu. In trying to process these strange impressions and thoughts floating through Levin’s head, he suddenly becomes aware of a familiar figure walking down the street… Calandra? Was that really her? It was difficult to tell, and yet as she walks down the street, she slowly shifts into a figure that Levin can no longer recognize.

The streets twist and turn into the distance, as if they go on infinitely. Buildings occasionally look to Levin’s eye like places he used to frequent in his past, shifting back to buildings more expected of the environment only when Levin chooses to focus on them. The streetlights, which should be off at this time of day, occasionally flicker in the corner of Levin’s eye. An imminent sense of vertigo threatens to overwhelm the experienced trainer, who at first finds it difficult to process the growing list of oddities occurring around him. The flowers in the sills of the inn seem to grow and shrink each time he gazes at them, as more and more people Levin recognizes seem to appear and disappear on the street…

Suddenly, the realization hits Levin like an avalanche. The ethereal crowd, the lack of sensation, the shifting environment that did not quite make sense… Levin figures out that he must have dozed off in his room, and yet here he was, painfully aware of the fact that he was dreaming his departure from the inn into the town of Mediville. Perhaps he would think it of the utmost importance that he wake himself up and truly begin his real adventure in Mediville, as opposed to further interacting with this illusion. Perhaps he would explore the world of the dream. Perhaps he would take this opportunity to see if, as a lucid dreamer, he could actually alter the nature of his environment, as opposed to merely observing and exploring it.

What will Levin do?

Forest of Adventure

Missingno. Master – ((Your response is fine and meets all the requirements, but I do have a bit of advice. You’ve always had a real talent for dialog, but while the exchange between Myrtle and Keith does reveal a thing or two about their characters and their relationship, I am still left wanting when it comes to actual description of their motivation for being in the Forest of Adventure, and indeed, their motivations in general. Yes, we know that they’re there for the nebulous concept of “adventure”, but I feel like I’ve received very little in terms of what’s going on in Keith’s mind, other than an inferred irritation with Myrtle. Why does he seek adventure? What does he hope to find? What is going through his mind as he walks through this expansive forest? All we get is a brief snapshot of Keith and Myrtle’s exchange, which tells us a bit about their relationship, but not a whole lot about their motivations. I say this because, as your updater, I need to get into your characters’ minds for a number of reasons. It might be good to keep that in mind for future replies.))

Keith and Myrtle make their way through the Forest of Adventure, discussing the supposed origin of their location’s name and the Shuppet’s tendency to complain; of course, far be it from Myrtle to contain her bitter sarcasm, which she dumps on her trainer in copious amounts. Keith, who at this point is used to his partner’s snide remarks, still cannot help but roll his eyes at some of her observations. Despite the Shuppet’s bitter complaining and the trainer’s irritation, the pair continues together into the Forest, where adventure is rumored to be waiting for them. As cliche as that idea sounds, particularly to Myrtle, there certainly is an aura within the forest that makes such an idea seem somehow credible to the pair.

As they wander further and further into the forest, that feeling of something waiting for them becomes more and more pronounced… The pair feel the forest shadows staring, as if alive, despite no movement or sound indicating any beings lurking within. All is far too quiet for the two travelers’ liking, especially given the fact that the forest had been teeming with signs of bird and bug Pokemon mere minutes before, and the ominous gut feeling that the two were not alone in their trek becomes nearly unbearable despite the uncomfortable silence…

Just as Keith is about to turn around to check the woods behind him for any signs of life, he finds himself immobilized by the grip of black-clad human arms, one of which holds a knife dipped in an ominous clear substance to his neck. By the smell and given his familiarity with poisons, Keith can identify the substance as a venom from the Skorupi line, and a potent one, at that. Myrtle, too, finds a metaphorical “blade” being held to her neck as well, only this blade takes the form of a Drapion’s claw, as she is caught in a similar chokehold by the grinning bug-type. The creature hisses with delight at the successful ambush, her pale eyes practically glowing with predatory glee. A soft, yet masculine voice hits Keith’s ear like a breath of wind, barely audible yet somehow eerie;

“You reek of poison. Are you one of us, then?” The black-clad man’s voice drips with contempt as the question issues from his lips. “Or are you just some ******* wandering through the forest?” The man’s laugh has an oddly hollow echo, though the breathy cackle still carries an unsettling harshness. “I have no use for *******es. Speak quickly.” The man tightens his hold on Keith, hovering the blade dangerously close to Keith's neck.

How will Keith and Myrtle respond?

Son_of_Shadows – Joshua wakes up after a long, restful night’s sleep in the Cloud Garden to a soft breeze playing across his face… Only to discover that he is no longer in the Cloud Garden at all! Joshua’s Kadabra, Trucy, was up to her old tricks again, and it does not take long for Joshua to realize that she has teleported him into the middle of an unfamiliar forest, particularly given how guilty his Kadabra looks when cautiously peeking out from behind one of the trees. Though the young trainer is unable to get a direct answer regarding his location from Trucy, he decides that this is a golden opportunity to not only adventure with his troublemaking psychic companion, but also to make progress regarding his latest goal, which involved searching for the legendary guardian of time known as Celebi. A lofty goal, indeed, but if Joshua could at least catch a glimpse of this well-known legend, he would be content with his luck. A forest such as this, brimming with an aura of enchantment, would certainly be a logical place to go searching, though perhaps it was more prudent to search for a bit of breakfast first.

Joshua and Trucy make their way through the unfamiliar forest, searching for something to eat as they listen carefully to the sounds of the forest for anything that might resemble the cries of the legendary Pokemon. Though the forest around them seems void of anything legend-worthy, Joshua and Trucy do manage to locate a particularly fruitful bush underneath the shade of some thick foliage. It seems odd that these bushes would be so full given the flapping wings and skittering feet that they have frequently heard in the distance; one would think that these bushes, which yield berries that are perfectly good for both people and Pokemon, would have at least been somewhat spotty if not picked clean, yet it seems as if none of the berries have been picked despite being at the peak of their ripeness. In fact, this part of the forest strikes the trainer and his Pokemon as being abnormally quiet. As the pair approach the bush, they begin to notice the shadows of large, cocoon-like objects hanging from the trees around them, still and silent as if they were a part of the tree. Metapod or Kakuna, perhaps?

A gust of wind suddenly makes its way through the forest, disturbing the shells which dangle from the branches, and one of the cocoons falls with a thud right into the berry bush, smashing some of the berries and sending others flying in all directions. This cocoon, at least, seems to belong to a Metapod, though something about the cocoon is… off. The color is a bit faded, and it looks a bit more tattered than usual. Also, something about that thud didn’t sound right to Joshua, though it was hard to put a finger on why.

Missingno. Master – ((Your response is fine and meets all the requirements, but I do have a bit of advice. You’ve always had a real talent for dialog, but while the exchange between Myrtle and Keith does reveal a thing or two about their characters and their relationship, I am still left wanting when it comes to actual description of their motivation for being in the Forest of Adventure, and indeed, their motivations in general. Yes, we know that they’re there for the nebulous concept of “adventure”, but I feel like I’ve received very little in terms of what’s going on in Keith’s mind, other than an inferred irritation with Myrtle. Why does he seek adventure? What does he hope to find? What is going through his mind as he walks through this expansive forest? All we get is a brief snapshot of Keith and Myrtle’s exchange, which tells us a bit about their relationship, but not a whole lot about their motivations. I say this because, as your updater, I need to get into your characters’ minds for a number of reasons. It might be good to keep that in mind for future replies.))

Keith and Myrtle make their way through the Forest of Adventure, discussing the supposed origin of their location’s name and the Shuppet’s tendency to complain; of course, far be it from Myrtle to contain her bitter sarcasm, which she dumps on her trainer in copious amounts. Keith, who at this point is used to his partner’s snide remarks, still cannot help but roll his eyes at some of her observations. Despite the Shuppet’s bitter complaining and the trainer’s irritation, the pair continues together into the Forest, where adventure is rumored to be waiting for them. As cliche as that idea sounds, particularly to Myrtle, there certainly is an aura within the forest that makes such an idea seem somehow credible to the pair.

As they wander further and further into the forest, that feeling of something waiting for them becomes more and more pronounced… The pair feel the forest shadows staring, as if alive, despite no movement or sound indicating any beings lurking within. All is far too quiet for the two travelers’ liking, especially given the fact that the forest had been teeming with signs of bird and bug Pokemon mere minutes before, and the ominous gut feeling that the two were not alone in their trek becomes nearly unbearable despite the uncomfortable silence…

Just as Keith is about to turn around to check the woods behind him for any signs of life, he finds himself immobilized by the grip of black-clad human arms, one of which holds a knife dipped in an ominous clear substance to his neck. By the smell and given his familiarity with poisons, Keith can identify the substance as a venom from the Skorupi line, and a potent one, at that. Myrtle, too, finds a metaphorical “blade” being held to her neck as well, only this blade takes the form of a Drapion’s claw, as she is caught in a similar chokehold by the grinning bug-type. The creature hisses with delight at the successful ambush, her pale eyes practically glowing with predatory glee. A soft, yet masculine voice hits Keith’s ear like a breath of wind, barely audible yet somehow eerie;

“You reek of poison. Are you one of us, then?” The black-clad man’s voice drips with contempt as the question issues from his lips. “Or are you just some ******* wandering through the forest?” The man’s laugh has an oddly hollow echo, though the breathy cackle still carries an unsettling harshness. “I have no use for *******es. Speak quickly.” The man tightens his hold on Keith, hovering the blade dangerously close to Keith's neck.

How will Keith and Myrtle respond?

((Got it, will keep that in mind. Hopefully, this reply helps with that a little bit.))Keith and Myrtle proceeded to walk through the Forest of Adventure, neither one of them speaking at the moment. Keith knew that arguing with Myrtle was very often an exercise in futility, and he figured he ought to save his energy and wits for whatever the forest had in store for him, anyway.

"Me-owth got your tongue, Meat Sack?" Myrtle asked.

"No," Keith said to his Shuppet. "I'm just not in the mood to argue with you right now. If things are about to get interesting, it's best if we keep our wits about us, rather than flinging them at each other. Besides, as I recall, it was your idea for us to travel through here. What did you say, again? Something about my life being too boring?"

"Sounds a-bout right," nodded Myrtle.

"I'm going out with Coselle," Keith reminded Myrtle with a grin. "Life for me is anything but boring, and FYI, I'm loving it."

"Are you say-ing you would ra-ther not be in here?" Myrtle asked. "As I re-call, you liked the i-de-a of en-ter-ing this for-est."

"My life might not be boring by any means," Keith responded, "but I'm not one to turn down a little extra excitement." Indeed, Myrtle had suggested to Keith several days ago that his next journey take him here, and Keith had agreed for just that reason; true though it was that his life was never dull, he nevertheless always welcomed the idea of exploring someplace he had never been before. Never knowing what was coming, never knowing what was next for him, never knowing quite what he might find, it was a thrill that Keith could never get enough of.

At that moment, however, the thrill was somewhat diminished by the ominous feeling that Keith and Myrtle were not alone here. Things were quiet. Too quiet. And then, the apparent reason for this ominous feeling made itself known as Keith found himself in the grip of human arms, clad in black. A knife was held to his neck, and it was covered in a strange, clear substance. Keith could tell at a whiff that it was the venom of a Skorupi or Drapion, and very potent stuff, too.

"Meat Sack!" exclaimed Myrtle, just before she found herself in the grip of a Drapion, with one of its claws being held to her neck. Then, a voice whispered into Keith's ear, stating that he reeked of poison, and asking if he was one of them. Keith wasn't sure how to respond to this, though the man added that he had no use for *******es, and thus, Keith should speak quickly. But Keith wasn't sure what the man meant by "one of us". He quickly reasoned it had to do with the fact that he supposedly reeked of poison. Two reasons for that, he knew- one, he was a trainer who specialized in the Poison-type. And two, he happened to be part Gastly. The man had a Drapion, so it could easily be the first one, but then again, if he disclosed his being part Gastly, who knows what this man would do? Probably attempt to exploit his status as part Gastly for some form of profit somehow, Keith figured, though he wasn't sure exactly how. Then again, maybe he was overthinking all this, which is, in fact, something of a bad idea when one happens to have a knife held to one's neck, with the holder of said knife demanding a quick answer. The Drapion venom on the blade (At least, Keith assumed it to be Drapion venom. He could tell it was from the Skorupi evolution line, owning a Skorupi himself, but could not narrow it down any further than that at the moment. Plus, as the guy appeared to own a Drapion, it seemed a pretty safe assumption) did not actually scare Keith- the very sharp blade it was covering, however, that was another matter altogether.

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'one of us', as I have no clue who or what you are," Keith replied. "I train Poison-type Pokemon, if that's what you mean." He then waited for the man's answer, praying to Arceus that that was indeed what he meant. Or at least that his answer wasn't so unsatisfactory as to warrant his untimely demise, anyway.

You feel so empty, but I've got me a friend.

Forest of Adventure

Missingno. Master - ((Much better this time around.))

Though Keith is fully aware of the immediacy with which he should act, he is stumped by the man's question regarding whether or not Keith could be considered one of... something. Even the comment that he "reeked of poison" could refer to more than one aspect of himself; it could refer to his status as a poison-type trainer, or more ominously, the closely-guarded secret that Keith kept about himself. It would be a terrible idea in Keith's mind to reveal such a secret to a man who clearly takes no issue with holding a poison-dipped knife to his throat, as Keith could easily be exploited by such a character. No, better to play it safe... Keith decides to answer honestly, but evade the topic of his true identity altogether for his own safety. The man standing behind Keith snorts with irritation, his airy voice taking on an incredulous tone;

"Is that so? Just a ******* poison type trainer, making his way through the forest...? You better hope there's more to the story than that."

As the man speaks, Keith hears the slightest sound of something dropping from the trees a few feet behind them, followed by a voice with the same eerie, breath-like quality as the man's, only distinctly feminine; "WAIT! What if he's telling the truth?"

As if the woman had never spoken, the man deftly nicks Keith's neck with his blade, just enough to draw the slightest bit of blood, before removing the knife, as well as his grip, letting Keith go free. "He isn't," the man says solemnly. "I have already bet his life on it."

"Itzal, you damned-" the female voice starts, as she silently runs up to Keith; though he does not hear her sprint, he is immediately faced with her graceful, black-clad form, her entire body covered with dark garments except for her eyes, which are completely black from pupil to sclera. Though her grip is nowhere near as intense or powerful as Itzal's, she does gently hold Keith in place with a look that suggests that she does so for his own good. She peers at his wound intensely, apparently watching it for signs of some sort of reaction. After a few moments, she sighs heavily and releases Keith. "Seems you were right this time," she mutters.

The man says nothing in response, though he does make his way around Keith to face him; like the woman, his eyes are similarly darkened, and his choice of clothing matches hers. "No reaction whatsoever. That poison should have you writhing on the floor by now. You sure you're just a poison type trainer?" The man chuckles darkly as he sheathes his poison-tipped blade. "It is true that you do not have the afflictions of a veteran poison-drinker, but I can sense it, in your blood... Poison runs through you. You are one of us." Itzal motions to his Drapion, and the female bug-type reluctantly lets Myrtle go free as well, though not without a bit of an intimidating glare to remind the Shuppet who is in charge.

"Perhaps he is here by mistake...?" The female poison drinker tilts her head, regarding Keith with some curiosity. "He really does seem as dumb as he looks..."

"Now, Tzila, that's no way to talk about our brethren."

"But you just-"

"Do as I say, not as I do." Keith can sense the smirk through the cloth covering Itzal's mouth, as Tzila rolls her eyes with irritation. "Then again... He does seem a bit lost. Is it all an act, brother, or are you really just completely in the dark, here?" Itzal chuckles a bit to himself, though the laugh, while still airy and unsettling, is decidedly warmer than before.

Though Keith is fully aware of the immediacy with which he should act, he is stumped by the man's question regarding whether or not Keith could be considered one of... something. Even the comment that he "reeked of poison" could refer to more than one aspect of himself; it could refer to his status as a poison-type trainer, or more ominously, the closely-guarded secret that Keith kept about himself. It would be a terrible idea in Keith's mind to reveal such a secret to a man who clearly takes no issue with holding a poison-dipped knife to his throat, as Keith could easily be exploited by such a character. No, better to play it safe... Keith decides to answer honestly, but evade the topic of his true identity altogether for his own safety. The man standing behind Keith snorts with irritation, his airy voice taking on an incredulous tone;

"Is that so? Just a ******* poison type trainer, making his way through the forest...? You better hope there's more to the story than that."

As the man speaks, Keith hears the slightest sound of something dropping from the trees a few feet behind them, followed by a voice with the same eerie, breath-like quality as the man's, only distinctly feminine; "WAIT! What if he's telling the truth?"

As if the woman had never spoke, the man deftly nicks Keith's neck with his blade, just enough to draw the slightest bit of blood, before removing the knife, as well as his grip, letting Keith go free. "He isn't," the man says solemnly. "I have already bet his life on it."

"Itzal, you damned-" the female voice starts, as she silently runs up to Keith; though he does not hear her sprint, he is immediately faced with her graceful, black-clad form, her entire body covered with dark garments except for her eyes, which are completely black from pupil to sclera. Though her grip is nowhere near as intense or powerful as Itzal's, she does gently hold Keith in place with a look that suggests that she does so for his own good. She peers at his wound intensely, apparently watching it for signs of some sort of reaction. After a few moments, she sighs heavily and releases Keith. "Seems you were right this time," she mutters.

The man says nothing in response, though he does make his way around Keith to face him; like the woman, his eyes are similarly darkened, and his choice of clothing matches hers. "No reaction whatsoever. That poison should have you writhing on the floor by now. You sure you're just a poison type trainer?" The man chuckles darkly as he sheathes his poison-tipped blade. "It is true that you do not have the afflictions of a veteran poison-drinker, but I can sense it, in your blood... Poison runs through you. You are one of us." Itzal motions to his Drapion, and the female bug-type reluctantly lets Myrtle go free as well, though not without a bit of an intimidating glare to remind the Shuppet who is in charge.

"Perhaps he is here by mistake...?" The female poison drinker tilts her head, regarding Keith with some curiosity. "He really does seem as dumb as he looks..."

"Now, Tzila, that's no way to talk about our brethren."

"But you just-"

"Do as I say, not as I do." Keith can sense the smirk through the cloth covering Itzal's mouth, as Tzila rolls her eyes with irritation. "Then again... He does seem a bit lost. Is it all an act, brother, or are you really just completely in the dark, here?" Itzal chuckles a bit to himself, though the laugh, while still airy and unsettling, is decidedly warmer than before.

How will Keith and Myrtle react?

It was almost as though the man somehow knew that Keith was holding back information. At that point, another voice, similar to this man's in quality, though unmistakably feminine, implored him to wait. Nevertheless, the man nicked Keith's neck with his knife, just enough to draw a little blood. Finally, he let Keith go, stating to the woman that he had already bet Keith's life on it. It was at this point Keith started to guess what he had meant- the knife, remember, had been soaked in what Keith supposed was Drapion venom, which had just been introduced to his bloodstream. This would, for ordinary people, pose a fairly major problem, though Keith felt nothing in response to this. The cut stung a little, yeah, but that was nothing. Then, the woman who had asked the man to wait ran over to Keith (and was oddly silent in doing so, Keith couldn't help but notice), and held Keith in place as she peered at his wound. She was dressed entirely in black- it wasn't just that all her clothes were black, either, the only thing that showed through the clothes were her eyes, which were pure black all over. After a few moments, she released Keith, sighing, and muttered that the man, apparently named Itzal, was right this time.

Itzal made his way around Keith to face him, and remarked on his lack of reaction. He insisted that Keith was one of them, and motioned to his Drapion to let Myrtle go. Myrtle was not intimidated by the Drapion's glare, but did not glare back as she felt herself inclined to. After the two black-clothed people talked with each other for a moment, the woman, apparently named Txila, asked Keith if he really was in the dark about all this. Keith was feeling a little more at ease now, primarily because there was no longer a sharp blade being held to his neck. Besides, it looked as though they had more or less worked out at least part of the truth, so what was there to be gained from further denial?

"I honestly have no idea who you are," Keith stated. "And I wasn't lying about training Poison-types. But I'm guessing that you both are part Poison Pokemon, like I am?" he asked. "Sorry I held back on that little detail, it's just that it's not exactly something I bring up very often, let alone to someone I just met..."

"Are you cer-tain you should be tel-ling them that-" began Myrtle.

"Myrtle, in case you haven't noticed," Keith said to his Shuppet, "I've just been injected with... what was that? Drapion venom? It's either that or from a really high level Skorupi, but- anyway, point is, Myrtle, I've just been injected with poison strong enough to kill a regular person, and all I felt from it was a little stinging from the cut. They've pretty much worked it out for themselves, so what point would there be in denying it any further?"

"I sup-pose you have a point," the Shuppet stated grudgingly, still looking somewhat wary.

Son_of_Shadows – Joshua wakes up after a long, restful night’s sleep in the Cloud Garden to a soft breeze playing across his face… Only to discover that he is no longer in the Cloud Garden at all! Joshua’s Kadabra, Trucy, was up to her old tricks again, and it does not take long for Joshua to realize that she has teleported him into the middle of an unfamiliar forest, particularly given how guilty his Kadabra looks when cautiously peeking out from behind one of the trees. Though the young trainer is unable to get a direct answer regarding his location from Trucy, he decides that this is a golden opportunity to not only adventure with his troublemaking psychic companion, but also to make progress regarding his latest goal, which involved searching for the legendary guardian of time known as Celebi. A lofty goal, indeed, but if Joshua could at least catch a glimpse of this well-known legend, he would be content with his luck. A forest such as this, brimming with an aura of enchantment, would certainly be a logical place to go searching, though perhaps it was more prudent to search for a bit of breakfast first.

Joshua and Trucy make their way through the unfamiliar forest, searching for something to eat as they listen carefully to the sounds of the forest for anything that might resemble the cries of the legendary Pokemon. Though the forest around them seems void of anything legend-worthy, Joshua and Trucy do manage to locate a particularly fruitful bush underneath the shade of some thick foliage. It seems odd that these bushes would be so full given the flapping wings and skittering feet that they have frequently heard in the distance; one would think that these bushes, which yield berries that are perfectly good for both people and Pokemon, would have at least been somewhat spotty if not picked clean, yet it seems as if none of the berries have been picked despite being at the peak of their ripeness. In fact, this part of the forest strikes the trainer and his Pokemon as being abnormally quiet. As the pair approach the bush, they begin to notice the shadows of large, cocoon-like objects hanging from the trees around them, still and silent as if they were a part of the tree. Metapod or Kakuna, perhaps?

A gust of wind suddenly makes its way through the forest, disturbing the shells which dangle from the branches, and one of the cocoons falls with a thud right into the berry bush, smashing some of the berries and sending others flying in all directions. This cocoon, at least, seems to belong to a Metapod, though something about the cocoon is… off. The color is a bit faded, and it looks a bit more tattered than usual. Also, something about that thud didn’t sound right to Joshua, though it was hard to put a finger on why.

What will Joshua and Trucy do?

Eventually, the trainer and the Kadabra came across a reasonably-sized bush, with some nice looking berries. Not the most filling breakfast admittedly, but if he could make sure they were clean, they would certainly do for now. Even so, he regretted not buying some supplies yesterday. He'd been going to do that today. Thanks Trucy, thanks a bunch. The pranksters on his team really did seem to love inconveniencing him at times.

Then again, maybe it was their subtle way of telling him to gain a bit of foresight.

Nah, that couldn't be right.

In any case, the bush was surprisingly full. From what he'd heard so far, there was a lot of wildlife in the area, so why hadn't more creatures eaten from it? Maybe the berries were poisonous... But they looked perfectly normal. Standard bush, surely. Maybe it was only just starting to flower or something. No, that couldn't be right either... They seemed at the very height of their growth cycle. Trucy chose this moment to pipe up.

"Kadab..." she mumbled warily. Something about this felt very off to the Kadabra. She'd noticed how quiet this place was in comparison to the rest of the forest, which had featured the chirping of birds and such.

"I think we might want to stay on guard..." Joshua replied, noticing the cocoon-like objects hanging above them in the trees. Maybe they'd stumbled into a Beedrill hive? That would be just his luck, after all. Suddenly, one of the cocoons fell into the bush, smashing and scattering the berries. Joshua picked one up to examine it. It was definitely real. An average berry. What was going on here? He looked at the coccoon now. Seemed like a very tattered Metapod cocoon. Was it old? Dead? Had it hatched when it fell? Something about the way it had fallen was even unnatural. Part of him thought he should run... But his inner curiosity, as usual, got the best of him. Joshua bent over to try to pick up the cocoon. "What exactly are you..."

Originally Posted by scytherdude30
no no no you need an empoleon as your powerhouse da listen to me man I AM THE BOMB

Originally Posted by Zincspider

Yes, someone is getting 'killed'... HOORAY FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!....

MarbleZone – Levin Sanders was by no means a rookie trainer by Fizzytopian standards; indeed, the young man had not only accumulated an impressive and diverse team of Pokemon, but he had embarked upon a great deal of traveling in various locations across the region. Why, then, would a trainer so accustomed to the heart-pounding, life-threatening adrenaline rush of adventuring choose the peaceful, friendly town of Mediville for his visit to the Arcane Realms? In Levin’s mind, the answer was simple. Unlike many other trainers, who were introduced to the concept of traveling alone with one’s Pokemon partners by starting off in a relatively non-threatening location where young trainers could get acquainted with battling alongside their new companions and exploring as a team, Levin was thrown into some very difficult situations from the get-go, which included sub-zero temperatures, saving a young boy who had fallen into a trap, and the constant of being eaten by a group of haughty Jellicent, among other things… So when the Fizzytopian government letter arrived in Levin’s mailbox, mandating that all trainers who had not yet visited the Arcane Realms do so immediately, Levin saw an opportunity to have a fresh start for himself and his Pokemon. This time, Levin was going to take some of his youngest, most inexperienced Pokemon, and hopefully forge a stronger bond with at least one of them in this quaint little city. After all, as an experienced trainer, Levin could spot opportunity from a mile away. Perhaps he could help out some poor farmer with his sick Mareep, or engage in a battle with some young trainers in the square. The possibilities were endless, and Levin was more than capable of keeping his eyes and ears open in the pursuit of an appropriate adventure for himself and his carefully selected partners.

Levin gears up as he has done in the past, making his way down the stairs of the inn in which he was staying. Pokeballs equipped and ready to go, he pauses for a brief moment to breathe in, and though the breath feels oddly hollow, he ignores the lack of sensation and flings open the door. It is at this exact moment that Levin’s mind suddenly becomes weighted down with an odd sense of doubt. Looking back into the entryway, he somehow finds himself doubting what he sees; were the walls in the entryway really blue? Weren’t they white before? It was a strange thought, and yet, it was difficult to shake. Certainly, there were explanations… Perhaps it had been painted while he was upstairs, but no, that did not seem to make any sense. Either way, Levin was intent upon finding adventure, and he steps out into the street, where another strange, seemingly inconsequential thought strikes him. The room, in which he woke up… Why did the lamp on the table look like the one from his childhood home? The lamp that had been there before was… No, no, perhaps he was misremembering, and the establishment simply a lamp that looked like the one he remembered and he simply had not noticed it before. There was nothing too peculiar about that.

As Levin looks out onto the street, the faded, vague impressions of faces going by in a blur as people travel to and fro strike Levin with a vague feeling of familiarity. Somehow, each person that Levin sees, and each Pokemon scampering at a trainer’s feet or flying in the distance, fills him with the oddest sense of déjŕ vu. In trying to process these strange impressions and thoughts floating through Levin’s head, he suddenly becomes aware of a familiar figure walking down the street… Calandra? Was that really her? It was difficult to tell, and yet as she walks down the street, she slowly shifts into a figure that Levin can no longer recognize.

The streets twist and turn into the distance, as if they go on infinitely. Buildings occasionally look to Levin’s eye like places he used to frequent in his past, shifting back to buildings more expected of the environment only when Levin chooses to focus on them. The streetlights, which should be off at this time of day, occasionally flicker in the corner of Levin’s eye. An imminent sense of vertigo threatens to overwhelm the experienced trainer, who at first finds it difficult to process the growing list of oddities occurring around him. The flowers in the sills of the inn seem to grow and shrink each time he gazes at them, as more and more people Levin recognizes seem to appear and disappear on the street…

Suddenly, the realization hits Levin like an avalanche. The ethereal crowd, the lack of sensation, the shifting environment that did not quite make sense… Levin figures out that he must have dozed off in his room, and yet here he was, painfully aware of the fact that he was dreaming his departure from the inn into the town of Mediville. Perhaps he would think it of the utmost importance that he wake himself up and truly begin his real adventure in Mediville, as opposed to further interacting with this illusion. Perhaps he would explore the world of the dream. Perhaps he would take this opportunity to see if, as a lucid dreamer, he could actually alter the nature of his environment, as opposed to merely observing and exploring it.

What will Levin do?

((Thanks for taking me on a second adventure. Hopefully this won't take too much of your time!))

What he hell?!

It was so much happening at once: the suddenly twisted reality, the childhood memories, and worst of all, the people: friends from his hometown, close and distant relatives, his late brother Ivan... even people he'd met recently - William Hale, Stark, Balmund... Calandra. Acquaintances with ever-shifting faces, none of whom would even approach him... In this altered state of mind, reality was even stranger than on Phantom Isle. Sure, everybody over there was dead, but other than that things were relatively normal - much more static, at least.
He laughed to himself to hide his disgust. Way to "do things right". Didn't even make it out the door...

Still, this was an interesting situation - he'd heard plenty about it, but he had never, ever been a lucid dreamer; all of his life, he made a point to keep his nights as calm and uneventful as possible - which did cost him on the... social side of things sometimes, but still. To find himself in such a scenario was way too unlikely to be a natural occurrence.

- This is getting ridiculous. I didn't ask for this! Damnit, why can't my life be normal for once?! I need to wake up, I have to. Otherwise, who knows what kind of damage this weird dream will do to me... Besides, some of these memories are plain uncomfortable.

He tried to open his eyes, tried to wish himself awake... only to realize he didn't know how to. This dream was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, something he had both total control over and none at all at the same time; if he was indeed the master of his dream, there would be a hell of a lot of people he'd make disappear. And six friends in particular he'd want to bring along... He instinctively tapped his belt. Was there a chance his Pokemon were part of this dream as well? And if so, were they asleep like him, or was their presence just a figment of his own imagination? In that case, whatever accomplishments they pulled off, whatever bonds were strengthened in this dream... his partners would remember none of it because they never really experienced it, right? He was right, this was already doing a number on his head.

... but it's exhilarating at the same time.

Yes, this was all kinds of strange. To be dreaming, yet aware of it... there's one more of his convictions shot down right there - he'd always assumed lucid dreaming to be, well... a load of bull. Then again, he'd also believed ghosts to be overrated bits of fiction. The more you know.
Part of him still wanted to wake up as fast as possible - but that part was beginning to falter in face of a new perspective. He had all the time in the world to comply with that letter. An initiation journey, important as it was for the regular newbie, was something that didn't need to be rushed, and hell - he was no regular Trainer anyway. He was Levin Sanders, and he was going to tame this dream.

- This is my dream, and my reality. I own all of this. So bring it on, mind.

Perhaps somewhere down the road, there'd be time to dream about some alone time with Calandra. For now, he'd keep walking those eternal streets and wait to see what he would toss at himself.

EpicSquirtle:((Much, much better! ^^ now, I realize this is a battle, but when the adventure allows it, I’d like to see some character development too: not just Telpo whining and you answering back, I wanna know your character’s personality and motivations through your posts, as well as your Pokemon’s. No need to rush it, but give it a shot when the plot lets you.))

You don’t even stop to reflect for a second – if the Numel is in trouble, then it’s going to get your help! Telpo tries to warn you that maybe there’s more than meets the eye here, who even knows who attacked first?!

You assess the situation briefly and, recalling that Cacturne are part Grass-Type, decide that going for some Fire attacks is probably the best option. Your Abra looks terrified as you issue your instructions - is there something his Trainer is missing? Cacturne are also Dark-Types!

Reluctantly, Telpo steps in to help out. The Cacturne look at the puny Pokemon, well aware of their own type advantage, and look to gang up on your Abra – but he’s having none of it. Mustering all of his courage, the tiny Psychic-Type jumps forward and delivers a hard Fire Punch to one of the Cacturne, before swiftly turning 180 degrees to land a second one on the other opponent. Taken by surprise, the Cacturne take astep back to reassess the situation – seems they weren’t expecting Abra to put up a fight. However, it’s their turn now…

The first Cacturne jumps forward, black energy glowing in its hand as it smacks Telpo right in the face – as the dark aura explodes with violence, much more than it seemed it would, and dealing devastating damage to your Pokemon! Horrified, you instantly recognize the move as Payback, a Dark-Type strike that becomes twice as strong if the Pokemon was already hit…

Abra struggles back to his feet, but one attack by the much stronger opponent was almost enough to cause him to faint – and the other one is about to finish him off! The second Cacturne jumps forward, its right arm covered in similar black energy, ready for another Payback that Telpo simply won’t survive…

… but at the last second, its face is covered in flames and it falls back, shocked and hurt! You take a moment to realize what happened, until you see the Numel standing side by side with Telpo. It’s joining the struggle! You whip out your Pokedex that tells you the small camel is currently at Level 5, and the Numel looks at you and nods with determination, as if saying he’ll fight alongside you as well.

What will you do after this turn of events?

The Graveyard

swampertforever:((That’s perfectly okay, I did say the animal was howling a lot; it doesn’t really change anything plot-wise, so you can take those liberties if you wish; also makes for a richer post, so I’m all for it. ^^))

You start letting fear get the best of you, and thinking clearly is hard in the face of actual danger. Instead of devising a plan, you start spilling out every single bit of information you hope might soothe the creature– deep down you doubt it’ll do any good, but maybe calling out to its generosity will help? In case that doesn’t work, you haphazardly rummage through your bag and pull out a handful of candy, praying that the animal will find it more appealing than your flesh.

For what seems like an eternity, all you hear in return is a deafening silence… then a loud bark, followed by a very sharp pain in your left leg! You scream in agony and horror as you realize you’ve just been bitten, and fall to one knee, clasping your leg – fortunately the creature let go without actually tearing off any flesh, but you can feel something warm running through your hand… you’re bleeding.

The barking continues, and you brace yourself mentally for the next bite, but it doesn’t come. It seems as if the animal is instead trying to scare you away, the first bite only a warning. Suddenly, another sound is heard between the barks – a human voice, albeit faint.

- What are you doing?! Come here boy, here! Bad dog!

You spot something flickering through the corner of your eye, as the darkness begins to lift: through a door opposite the one you came in from, a very old man approaches with a candle in hand. And as he does, the animal stops barking, heeding his instructions. Before long, the creature is close enough to the man’s candle for you to identify the aggressor – a particularly large Houndour.

Upon realizing what has happened, the elder places the candle on top of a small drawer and hastens his pace to help you, but after two steps he starts coughing spastically and passes out, falling to the floor; somehow, the candle . The Houndour starts pacing around his owner frantically, barking and then howling, much like it was doing before you entered the house. Does this mean it was calling for help… for the old man?

The dog turns to you once more, all semblance of threat gone, its eyes instead pleading. You fight your way back up and approach the elder limping, as you weigh your options. The Houndour has just attacked you unprovoked, inflicting a serious injury; why should you be helping it or its owner now? You owe them nothing, and all you got for your troubles so far is a bleeding, and quite possibly infected, wound in your left leg. On the other hand, it’s unlikely that you’ll find be able to treat your wounds anywhere else in this place, unless you rely on your own medicine, and the elder did seem genuinely concerned when he realized you were hurt. Maybe you should repay the favour…

As you think things through, the Houndour begins licking its owner’s face and nudging him with its snout, desperately trying to wake him up. After a while, the man grumbles incoherently before patting the dog on the head; you instinctively help him sit down, as your own leg is giving you trouble lifting him back to his feet.

He coughs countless times throughout the sentences, each word a struggle to utter. The elder raises a shaking arm and points to the door he came in from.

- There is a last d…dose of antibiotic in my… in my room, lad. Some p..painkillers left too, I reckon… - he smiles at his Houndour before continuing. – Heh, I… I guess I won’t be n… needing them no more, so help your…yourself boy. L-least I can do…

The Houndour seems to get what he means and lets out a heart-wrenching howl once more. The man pets him behind the ears but to no avail.

The choice is laid out in front of you; your wound isn’t going to get better by itself, and it’s becoming increasingly painful. On the other hand, it seems the man is gravely ill and his medical supplies are running low – even though he has given you full liberty to take what’s left and be on your way, believing his life span to be near its end anyway. You remember that Blue is still out there all alone, and the choice becomes all the more difficult…

What do you do?

The Ocean of Mystery

Trickster Zorua: Awaiting edits to your last post

LucarioArtcunoSuicunLover:((First things first: welcome! Now, advice. Please capitalize the names of Pokemon species; I understand it’s a minor issue, but quirk or not, it’s hard to justify writing “spearow” as you write “sparrow” – one is a fictional creature, the other an actual species. Second bit of advice: I understand it’s to convey how nervous El is, and how her mind is racing from one subject to another, but it makes the post very confusing when you write sentences out like “No water in lungs today and oh deities she was going to die horribly and nobody would know and oh look she had her flippers on yaay!”… at least make it a monologue, not third person narrative.))

After a good while of self-convincing, you finally muster enough courage to dive in. They say a good part of being brave is being crazy anyway, so maybe there’s comfort to be had in that. Fighting back the tears, you cling on to Justin and pat him on the head, encouraging him to move forward – you can tell he needs every bit of your enthusiasm to keep going, so you figure you might as well fake some.

You swim for what feels like hours, nothing but blue for miles around. But on second thought, it’s not so bad… Justin is a smooth enough swimmer that he doesn’t scare away most of the fish, and along the way you are greeted with some particularly impressive sights: a school of Finneon, following a large Lumineon, swims right next to you for a good five minutes before going its own way; a couple of lights flicker occasionally in the depths, no doubt courtesy of some Chinchou, lending the ocean an eerie, yet beautiful glow from time to time; and you even get to witness one of the Pokemon World’s current mysteries, and subject of much investigation – a small number of Luvdisc surrounding a larger pink Pokemon, a little too deep to make out clearly, but more than likely an Alomomola. What’s the connection, if any, between the two species? Current trends defend they’re too separate evolution lines, but the resemblance is uncanny…

As you dwell in these thoughts, you seem to lose track of time. By the time you get back to your senses, you realize in shock that you can no longer even see the boat you came here in! Which means… you’re stranded! You urge Justin to turn around and go back, but to no avail; how would you even find your way back with no points of reference? Your eyes begin to well up again, you knew this was a horrible idea from the start! What if you don’t make it back before nightfall?! That’s when the Jellicent come…

Suddenly, Justin drags you back to reality with a light Headbutt; before you can complain, he points to the distance. At first you don’t see anything, but squinting, you spot what seems to be… a boat? Wait, not just any boat... As it draws closer into your field of vision, you realize it’s actually a huge ship!

You can try to call their attention, as it might be your only way out of this mess, but it’ll take considerable effort to make them even notice you. On the other hand, who even knows if these guys are friendly, even if they’re the only people around for miles?

The Puppydog eyes. Even IRL I can't resist them...

Originally Posted by MarbleZone

The Graveyard

swampertforever:((That’s perfectly okay, I did say the animal was howling a lot; it doesn’t really change anything plot-wise, so you can take those liberties if you wish; also makes for a richer post, so I’m all for it. ^^))

You start letting fear get the best of you, and thinking clearly is hard in the face of actual danger. Instead of devising a plan, you start spilling out every single bit of information you hope might soothe the creature– deep down you doubt it’ll do any good, but maybe calling out to its generosity will help? In case that doesn’t work, you haphazardly rummage through your bag and pull out a handful of candy, praying that the animal will find it more appealing than your flesh.

For what seems like an eternity, all you hear in return is a deafening silence… then a loud bark, followed by a very sharp pain in your left leg! You scream in agony and horror as you realize you’ve just been bitten, and fall to one knee, clasping your leg – fortunately the creature let go without actually tearing off any flesh, but you can feel something warm running through your hand… you’re bleeding.

The barking continues, and you brace yourself mentally for the next bite, but it doesn’t come. It seems as if the animal is instead trying to scare you away, the first bite only a warning. Suddenly, another sound is heard between the barks – a human voice, albeit faint.

- What are you doing?! Come here boy, here! Bad dog!

You spot something flickering through the corner of your eye, as the darkness begins to lift: through a door opposite the one you came in from, a very old man approaches with a candle in hand. And as he does, the animal stops barking, heeding his instructions. Before long, the creature is close enough to the man’s candle for you to identify the aggressor – a particularly large Houndour.

Upon realizing what has happened, the elder places the candle on top of a small drawer and hastens his pace to help you, but after two steps he starts coughing spastically and passes out, falling to the floor; somehow, the candle . The Houndour starts pacing around his owner frantically, barking and then howling, much like it was doing before you entered the house. Does this mean it was calling for help… for the old man?

The dog turns to you once more, all semblance of threat gone, its eyes instead pleading. You fight your way back up and approach the elder limping, as you weigh your options. The Houndour has just attacked you unprovoked, inflicting a serious injury; why should you be helping it or its owner now? You owe them nothing, and all you got for your troubles so far is a bleeding, and quite possibly infected, wound in your left leg. On the other hand, it’s unlikely that you’ll find be able to treat your wounds anywhere else in this place, unless you rely on your own medicine, and the elder did seem genuinely concerned when he realized you were hurt. Maybe you should repay the favour…

As you think things through, the Houndour begins licking its owner’s face and nudging him with its snout, desperately trying to wake him up. After a while, the man grumbles incoherently before patting the dog on the head; you instinctively help him sit down, as your own leg is giving you trouble lifting him back to his feet.

He coughs countless times throughout the sentences, each word a struggle to utter. The elder raises a shaking arm and points to the door he came in from.

- There is a last d…dose of antibiotic in my… in my room, lad. Some p..painkillers left too, I reckon… - he smiles at his Houndour before continuing. – Heh, I… I guess I won’t be n… needing them no more, so help your…yourself boy. L-least I can do…

The Houndour seems to get what he means and lets out a heart-wrenching howl once more. The man pets him behind the ears but to no avail.

The choice is laid out in front of you; your wound isn’t going to get better by itself, and it’s becoming increasingly painful. On the other hand, it seems the man is gravely ill and his medical supplies are running low – even though he has given you full liberty to take what’s left and be on your way, believing his life span to be near its end anyway. You remember that Blue is still out there all alone, and the choice becomes all the more difficult…

What do you do?

OOC: I say 'the man' so many times in this post It's terrible. The silence that followed Michael's words gave him time to think. He realized that maybe babbling to a wolf wasn't such a good idea. He could just imagine Blue reprimanding him on his idiotic plan. 'Michael, the wolf sounds dangerous... and you are offering it chocolate? What are you planning to do, get it even more hyper?' Somehow, the thought of Blue cooled Michael's nerves enough to hazard one more line into the darkness.
"Is anyone... there?" A bark answered Michaels call. Followed by the worst. Michael felt a sudden sharp pain in his left leg.
"ARGH!" The teen screamed and fell to his knees. He held his leg, trying to figure out what happened. All he could feel was teeth marks. And the blood. His blood.
'He bit me. Mr Wolf bit me...' Michael thought. The boy did what any other would in this situation. He started to cry.
"Mr Wolf, why don't you like me? I'm just trying to help." Michael sobbed. More barking answered Michaels question, furthering the boys hysteria. The boy stayed down and wrapped his arms around his legs, bracing himself for more attacks. Tears were streaming down his face, and he feared for the worse.
- "What are you doing?! Come here boy, here! Bad dog!"
'Wait... what? What dog? Who's talking?'
Michael noticed a flicker in the corner of his eyes. Turning to the source, he saw an old man making his way towards him, holding a candle. The barking had stopped, and Michael finally found the perpetrator, a large dog-like pokemon that had made his way over to the Old Man. Making sure he didn't move his leg, the boy reached into his bag and pulled out his Pokedex.Houndour, the Dark Pokemon: It is smart enough to hunt in packs. It uses a variety of cries for communicating with others.
'So, Mr Wolf is a dog?' The teen put two and two together. 'Oh dear, I'm trespassing, aren't I?'. He didn't have long to think, as the old man had started to speed up. 'And he's going to tell me off as well...' The boys tears continued.
"I'm sorry Sir I heard your Houndour barking and thought he was in trouble so I rushed here to help..." The boy started to sob, but stopped when the Man collapsed, coughing uncontrollably.
"Sir?" Michael struggled to his feet, the pain in his leg making him see stars. The Houndour started to wail again, and turned to Michael, eyes pleading for help. Michael couldn't resist the dogs gaze, and started forward to help the old man, trying to bite back his tears and the pain. He didn't care if the Houndour hurt him, 'he was trying to protect his owner, like a good guard dog' Michael reasoned. The Houndour had started licking the mans face, further melting Michaels already soft heart. The man had woken up and started petting his dog's head, grumbling something incoherent. Michael helped the man sit down, the pain in his leg was too much to help him stand up.
- "I… I’m so sorry, I g-guess he… he got scared when…. When he heard you… he bit you, didn’t he?..."
The man was addressing Michael, which surprised him because he was expecting a telling off.
"He did, sir, but don't worry. He was doing his job, protecting you. I could learn something from a pokemon like your Houndour." Michael replied, mind wandering back to his lost Panpour. His mind snapped back when he heard the elderly gentleman reenter a coughing fit.
- "There is a last d…dose of antibiotic in my… in my room, lad. Some p..painkillers left too, I reckon… - he smiles at his Houndour before continuing. – Heh, I… I guess I won’t be n… needing them no more, so help your…yourself boy. L-least I can do…"
He told Michael, coughing throughout. The Houndour restarted his howling, that restarted Michaels tears. But they weren't tears of fear, they were tears of sorrow. The Gentleman was giving his lifeline to a teenager he had just met. A teenager who had gotten himself hurt because he had to be impulsive. His mind wandered back to Blue. He had already gotten one person potentially hurt, he wasn't going to stand here and let another fall victim to his stupidity. He slowly ambled into the mans room and got the medicine, and returned to hand them to the gentleman.
"No thank you, Sir. This injury is my fault. It'll heal. You can keep your medicine, I don't deserve it. I've got to find my Panpour. It's my fault we're in this mess. If I hadn't just rushed in here..."
Michael's tears were at full flow. The severity of the situation had finally hit him.
"Mr Wolf, urm.. I mean, Houndour, I'm sorry I scared you, I just wanted to help."

The Ocean of MysteryLucarioArtcunoSuicunLover:((First things first: welcome! Now, advice. Please capitalize the names of Pokemon species; I understand it’s a minor issue, but quirk or not, it’s hard to justify writing “spearow” as you write “sparrow” – one is a fictional creature, the other an actual species. Second bit of advice: I understand it’s to convey how nervous El is, and how her mind is racing from one subject to another, but it makes the post very confusing when you write sentences out like “No water in lungs today and oh deities she was going to die horribly and nobody would know and oh look she had her flippers on yaay!”… at least make it a monologue, not third person narrative.))

After a good while of self-convincing, you finally muster enough courage to dive in. They say a good part of being brave is being crazy anyway, so maybe there’s comfort to be had in that. Fighting back the tears, you cling on to Justin and pat him on the head, encouraging him to move forward – you can tell he needs every bit of your enthusiasm to keep going, so you figure you might as well fake some.

You swim for what feels like hours, nothing but blue for miles around. But on second thought, it’s not so bad… Justin is a smooth enough swimmer that he doesn’t scare away most of the fish, and along the way you are greeted with some particularly impressive sights: a school of Finneon, following a large Lumineon, swims right next to you for a good five minutes before going its own way; a couple of lights flicker occasionally in the depths, no doubt courtesy of some Chinchou, lending the ocean an eerie, yet beautiful glow from time to time; and you even get to witness one of the Pokemon World’s current mysteries, and subject of much investigation – a small number of Luvdisc surrounding a larger pink Pokemon, a little too deep to make out clearly, but more than likely an Alomomola. What’s the connection, if any, between the two species? Current trends defend they’re too separate evolution lines, but the resemblance is uncanny…

As you dwell in these thoughts, you seem to lose track of time. By the time you get back to your senses, you realize in shock that you can no longer even see the boat you came here in! Which means… you’re stranded! You urge Justin to turn around and go back, but to no avail; how would you even find your way back with no points of reference? Your eyes begin to well up again, you knew this was a horrible idea from the start! What if you don’t make it back before nightfall?! That’s when the Jellicent come…

Suddenly, Justin drags you back to reality with a light Headbutt; before you can complain, he points to the distance. At first you don’t see anything, but squinting, you spot what seems to be… a boat? Wait, not just any boat... As it draws closer into your field of vision, you realize it’s actually a huge ship!

You can try to call their attention, as it might be your only way out of this mess, but it’ll take considerable effort to make them even notice you. On the other hand, who even knows if these guys are friendly, even if they’re the only people around for miles?

So… what will you do?

((Understood and duly-noted!))

"Woah."

Once over the initial fear (and having emptied her goggles), that was about all El could muster. Even then she didn’t manage to actually say so out loud, that would mean taking her head out of the water. It was everything she’d fallen in love with from the nature documentaries and more. More than once she let her wonder get the better of her, reaching out towards whatever had grabbed her fancy. Luckily nothing bad came of that, if only because Justin was a strong enough swimmer to push her away from anything that could be a threat. Nearly everything in other words, but there was still plenty of interesting things to see.

Like the Finneon and Lumineon! Oh, how stunning with their gorgeous, delicate tails and dainty scales. The Finneon were quite cute, too, with their little round bodies and big fishy eyes. Lights flashed up from the deep, probably Chinchou, but far too away for El to even consider going for a closer look. It made her a little anxious to watch, as mesmerising as the display was. Not wanting to ruin her first time enjoying the water for years, she quickly averted her gaze. She was greeted with the sight of some of the cutest Pokémon around, the peppy pink Luvdisk and what seemed to be an Alomomola. El was personally fond of the convergent evolution theory for their similar traits; two unrelated species developing the same adaptations to similar environmental pressures. Bland, yes, but Murphy’s Law is an integral part of scientific theory. Besides, it was a far better explanation than ‘Arceus realised Luvdisk was a horrible mistake and tried to make up for it’. Not every Pokémon has to be an awesome battler to be important, and not everything can be a tertiary predator. Simple.

Eventually though, her wonder gave way to the realisation that her wetsuit was beginning to fail and her hands were going pruney. With disappointment she pulled herself out of the water and began to search for the boat. It was gone. She double checked, triple checked, more, but for all her efforts she could not find a sign of it. It came, that great mighty beast known as a panic attack. Her breathing quickened, her heart raced and the life jacket did an amazing job of keeping her relatively stable as she began to thrash around. Justin was the real lifesaver though, snapping her out of it with a friendly headbutt before her thrashing caught any unwelcome attention.

“W-what is it boy?” She managed to squeeze out after spitting out her snorkel.

He pointed as well as a Seel possibly could towards the horizon, a big black shape drifting into view. A boat! Or a ship. Definitely the latter really but El was not in the mood to be picky about such trivial things. It was truly massive, not that El had much experience with boats to be able to tell. What it was doing out there was a mystery, but one that El decided could wait until she was not in sea-jelly water. “Girl Eaten by Tentacruel” or “Girl Gone Missing: Jellicent Suspected” headlining the news was not what she came here to achieve.

“HEY!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “OVER HERE!” She waited for a brief moment, impatience, cold, anxiety and inexperience with big ships preventing her from telling if there was any response. In a matter of seconds she got sick of waiting, this was a temporary opportunity and one she was unbelievably lucky to have. Time for something less audible.

“Justin! Fire off an Ice Beam at the top decks!” The Seel looked at El like she was nuts for a moment before wriggling away from her and diving under the water. Down, down, down he went, El’s breaths growing more and more unsteady the more distorted his white form became. Suddenly, he came rocketing up, breached the surface and haphazardly fired off an Ice Beam in the direction of the ship. He did his best to aim during his brief hang time. It didn’t last for long, gravity quickly took over and he fell back down with a splash, leaving his trainer rather stunned.

“Well huh, I didn’t know you were actually paying attention to that Sharpedo documentary.”

swampertforever:((Your last post was fine but could use some work in making it more readable; if you could use more paragraphs, it’d be good, especially between dialogues. Take a look at how I organized my update, your LASL’s reply below yours to get an idea of what I mean. Yours is a huge block of text, no harm done in using some more paragraphs. Also, it’s always good to make a clear distinction between spoken lines and thoughts – I usually put thoughts in italics, but it’s just an example.))

The dog’s pleading eyes get to you, even after the harsh treatment he put you through – as does the old man’s terminal condition. Putting ill feelings aside, you decide to forgive them both, and see to it that the elder isn’t deprived of his medicine – even if they’d be much better spent on yourself.

So emotionally invested are you that you end up apologizing to Houndour, something that catches the dog by surprise; he hesitates for a while, then moves away from his owner and starts licking your leg where it’s bleeding – seems he’s apologizing in return.

The old man smiles at the sight, before being overwhelmed by another sequence of uncontrollable coughing. You fight through the pain as best you can and drape one of his arms around your neck, pulling up with every ounce of strength you can muster. Your leg is burning, but you still manage to get the elder to his feet and drag him to the room he came in from – upon entering, you confirm that it is indeed his bedroom.

The division is remarkably small – nothing but a bed, a window and a small desk and cheer beneath it and a small bedside table with another candle, this one still burning. You and Houndour help the man to lie down, which seems to ease his coughing somewhat. He gasps for air before whispering a couple more sentences – it’s noticeable how hard it is for him to even talk.

- You… you’re a remarkable young man, you are. I’m s… sorry you had to meet us in these cir…circumstances. I am the Graveyard’s guardian, the… the Gravekeeper. I’ve been keeping watch over these grounds for over… how long now?... Well over fifty years, that I’m sure of…

Judging by his apparent age, even that number could be a gross underestimation – but there’s no way the Houndour is that old. By its behaviour, you’d reckon it’s still a pup.

- I used to know the Graveyard like the back of my hand… But so much… so much has changed recently. Even the fog has grown vile… and them…

He starts coughing again, scaring you – how could you possibly help?!

- Them… Houndour and I have been keeping them… keeping them away as we can, but I’m so old… so tired and weak… I can’t anymore. Houndour, come here boy.

The black dog whimpers and approaches his owner, who whispers something in his ear that makes him nod before letting out a weak howl. The elder then looks back at you.

- Young man… I believe in fate. Do you? You must… must’ve been brought to me for a reason. My time is up…. But I’d like you to take the book on… on that desk. Give it a look, and… and decide accordingly. Whatever you do, it’s… been a pleasure to meet you before I…

He starts coughing again, even more violently then before, but only for a brief while. Soon the spasms stop… as does his breathing. You don’t have to be a doctor to realize what happened. Houndour understands as well, and resumes howling in despair and sadness.

You haphazardly try to calm him down, petting him behind the ears, but – understandably – it doesn’t work. The dog is devastated, and perhaps it’s best to let him grieve on his own… You limp over to the desk below the window. On top of it is an old-looking book, its red cover worn and scratched. You pick it up and open it on a random page… It’s a journal of some sort.

October 4;
They’re back. There were five of them this time around, with their dogs and their shovels… They started digging around the west graves again; I drove them off as usual, but I’m running out of Molotov… I know they’ll return. But dear Tina, I will keep the grounds safe as we used to when you were still with me. I’ll fight them to my last breath.

You turn over several pages, skimming another entry – it’s dated one month ago.

March 2;
The fog… it’s unbearable. I can hardly breathe; even going outside to pluck weeds from the graves is a chore nowadays. I wonder how long I have left, Tina; how long before I go to you.
It’s been one week since the grave robbers last showed up. Either they’re preparing for one big assault, or they finally found what they were looking for and left. But I doubt it… I’d feel it in my bones if something had been taken.
They’re heartless ones, Tina… When I drove them off last week, I hit some of them with my home-made explosives. They fled like they always do, but one of their Pokemon was wounded… they left him behind. It was a baby Houndour. I just couldn’t leave him behind, even if he belonged to the enemy…
I took him in. I guess he took a liking to me already, and he has no love lost for his former owners, I reckon. I might as well keep him around to help me drive them off in the future. Now to think of a name…
I’ll turn in for the night, Tina. My hand is shaking too much already.

As you prepare to keep reading, something nudges you on the leg – it’s Houndour. He’s stopped wailing, although the sadness inside him is still more than evident. You decide to keep the journal; if anything, it might be a helpful companion while walking the Graveyard. You obtain 1x Gravekeeper’s Diary.

Houndour motions toward the bedside table, which has a small drawer. You open it, and inside find some medication, just like the man had said…. Your leg hurts even more, and you’re starting to feel chilly. Could be you’re running a fever.

You’re tired, ill and in pain, and deeply shook by all the events that just transpired, including the death of the old man right in front of your eyes. But you need to keep a level head and plan your next move. It seems the gravekeeper had been struggling with thieves for a while now, and with him gone the Graveyard is theirs for the plundering. On the other hand, you need to look after yourself and find your partner…

What do you do?

The Ocean of Mystery

Trickster Zorua: Awaiting edits to your last post

LucarioArtcunoSuicunLover:((Much better, LASL. Keep it up! ^^))

That’s one huge freaking ship. The odds that they’ll pay attention to a minuscule speck on the ocean are slim to none, but you’ll be damned if you’re letting your only chance at being rescued pass you by.

The idea of waving your arms and yelling is quickly abandoned in favour a better plan – well, a plan. While all you manage to formulate is an order of Ice Beam, Justin manages to keep his cool long enough to perfect the plan – borrowing a technique from another water dweller.
Diving deep down – and leaving you panicking on the surface -, Justin goes as far as he can before turning 180ş and swimming back up as fast as he can, springing out of water in an amazing leap and shooting an Ice Beam straight at the top deck as you had instructed. He falls back down with a huge splash, and you can’t really tell from where you’re standing if the move hit the target, but props are in order for the resourceful Seel nonetheless.

After a while of waiting, the ship continuing its course, you start to lose hope, until you spot a small boat appearing from behind the gigantic hull – a small inflatable vessel carrying two occupants that makes its way toward you. It worked!!

The boat stops right next to you and Justin. As you extend a hand to them, hoping they’ll pull you in, the two men inside exchange a look between them, and one bends over to talk to you. He’s fairly young, probably in his id-twenties, and quite good –looking, but the way he’s staring at you gives you the feeling he isn’t an easy man at all.

- Were you responsible for the assault on out ship?

The look on your face is all the confirmation he needs.

- Listen, little girl. We aren’t a charity institution. This ship and its crew are on an important assignment to track down a particular marine Pokemon; we cannot afford dead weight slowing us down and consuming our resources. Unless you think you have something of value to add?...

It’s in your best interest to choose your next words carefully, as the sailor doesn’t seem the least inclined to let you aboard. You have a vague idea of what they’re after, though… maybe you could use that in your bargaining?

That’s one huge freaking ship. The odds that they’ll pay attention to a minuscule speck on the ocean are slim to none, but you’ll be damned if you’re letting your only chance at being rescued pass you by.

The idea of waving your arms and yelling is quickly abandoned in favour a better plan – well, a plan. While all you manage to formulate is an order of Ice Beam, Justin manages to keep his cool long enough to perfect the plan – borrowing a technique from another water dweller.
Diving deep down – and leaving you panicking on the surface -, Justin goes as far as he can before turning 180ş and swimming back up as fast as he can, springing out of water in an amazing leap and shooting an Ice Beam straight at the top deck as you had instructed. He falls back down with a huge splash, and you can’t really tell from where you’re standing if the move hit the target, but props are in order for the resourceful Seel nonetheless.

After a while of waiting, the ship continuing its course, you start to lose hope, until you spot a small boat appearing from behind the gigantic hull – a small inflatable vessel carrying two occupants that makes its way toward you. It worked!!

The boat stops right next to you and Justin. As you extend a hand to them, hoping they’ll pull you in, the two men inside exchange a look between them, and one bends over to talk to you. He’s fairly young, probably in his id-twenties, and quite good –looking, but the way he’s staring at you gives you the feeling he isn’t an easy man at all.

- Were you responsible for the assault on out ship?

The look on your face is all the confirmation he needs.

- Listen, little girl. We aren’t a charity institution. This ship and its crew are on an important assignment to track down a particular marine Pokemon; we cannot afford dead weight slowing us down and consuming our resources. Unless you think you have something of value to add?...

It’s in your best interest to choose your next words carefully, as the sailor doesn’t seem the least inclined to let you aboard. You have a vague idea of what they’re after, though… maybe you could use that in your bargaining?

What will you do?

El watched the ship sail on, so massive that it was hard to tell if anyone onboard had noticed. She was scared, no doubting that, it was just in a different manner now. No longer did she kick and scream, instead choosing to hold Justin close to herself as hope sailed on by, both literally and metaphorically. What was the chance she’d find another ship? She knew a few hundred dollars worth of chocolate wouldn’t be worth it in the end.

So it came as a great relief when she saw a little boat coming from behind the sip and right for her. “Justin, look! It worked!” She gave the Seel a kiss on the head, immediately regretting it when she got a mouthful of salt. She promptly preoccupied herself with ridding the taste from her mouth while the small boat approached, spitting and spluttering into the water. It took another nudge from Justin to bring her attention back to the main issue at hand. The two people in the boat didn’t look too scary, they were definitely on the young side of the spectrum. Still, El was desperate enough she probably would have taken anyone up to and including Hulk Hogan. The first thing she thought to do was to reach out to them, wanting nothing more than to have something solid to put her feet onto.

“Were you responsible for the assault on out ship?”

Oh. Oh crud. Not the response she was expecting, but quite reasonable all things considered. She cast a guilty look over at Justin, who responded by ducking his head under the water. “Fat lot of help you are,” she muttered before she turned back to the men.

“Listen, little girl. We aren’t a charity institution. This ship and its crew are on an important assignment to track down a particular marine Pokémon; we cannot afford dead weight slowing us down and consuming our resources. Unless you think you have something of value to add?...”

Marine Pokemon? Oh man, that could be just about anything. “I-I’m sorry! I-I came out here in the hopes of doing some basic field research, but I got separated from my boat.” She wrung her hands underwater as she stalled, waiting for something to come to mind. As she did so, her hand brushed over her pokéballs. There it was! “You said you’re looking for a Pokémon? What are you using? Bait? A decoy? ‘Cause I have a Ditto, and it could transform into whatever it is you’re looking for if you have a picture! I know it’s not the same thing as the real deal, but most Pokémon feel more comfortable around their own kind, no? It’d probably be more convincing than a decoy and more compelling than bait, especially with such a big ship.” She nodded towards said ship as she carefully retrieved Squishy’s pokéball and released the blob onto her head. It took one good look at the environment it was in before slipping of El’s head and borrowing Justin’s form, eyeing the strange men with an amount of apprehension.

1500Atk, 1200Def. Why did I make this joke?

Originally Posted by MarbleZone

The Graveyard

swampertforever:((Your last post was fine but could use some work in making it more readable; if you could use more paragraphs, it’d be good, especially between dialogues. Take a look at how I organized my update, your LASL’s reply below yours to get an idea of what I mean. Yours is a huge block of text, no harm done in using some more paragraphs. Also, it’s always good to make a clear distinction between spoken lines and thoughts – I usually put thoughts in italics, but it’s just an example.))

The dog’s pleading eyes get to you, even after the harsh treatment he put you through – as does the old man’s terminal condition. Putting ill feelings aside, you decide to forgive them both, and see to it that the elder isn’t deprived of his medicine – even if they’d be much better spent on yourself.

So emotionally invested are you that you end up apologizing to Houndour, something that catches the dog by surprise; he hesitates for a while, then moves away from his owner and starts licking your leg where it’s bleeding – seems he’s apologizing in return.

The old man smiles at the sight, before being overwhelmed by another sequence of uncontrollable coughing. You fight through the pain as best you can and drape one of his arms around your neck, pulling up with every ounce of strength you can muster. Your leg is burning, but you still manage to get the elder to his feet and drag him to the room he came in from – upon entering, you confirm that it is indeed his bedroom.

The division is remarkably small – nothing but a bed, a window and a small desk and cheer beneath it and a small bedside table with another candle, this one still burning. You and Houndour help the man to lie down, which seems to ease his coughing somewhat. He gasps for air before whispering a couple more sentences – it’s noticeable how hard it is for him to even talk.

- You… you’re a remarkable young man, you are. I’m s… sorry you had to meet us in these cir…circumstances. I am the Graveyard’s guardian, the… the Gravekeeper. I’ve been keeping watch over these grounds for over… how long now?... Well over fifty years, that I’m sure of…

Judging by his apparent age, even that number could be a gross underestimation – but there’s no way the Houndour is that old. By its behaviour, you’d reckon it’s still a pup.

- I used to know the Graveyard like the back of my hand… But so much… so much has changed recently. Even the fog has grown vile… and them…

He starts coughing again, scaring you – how could you possibly help?!

- Them… Houndour and I have been keeping them… keeping them away as we can, but I’m so old… so tired and weak… I can’t anymore. Houndour, come here boy.

The black dog whimpers and approaches his owner, who whispers something in his ear that makes him nod before letting out a weak howl. The elder then looks back at you.

- Young man… I believe in fate. Do you? You must… must’ve been brought to me for a reason. My time is up…. But I’d like you to take the book on… on that desk. Give it a look, and… and decide accordingly. Whatever you do, it’s… been a pleasure to meet you before I…

He starts coughing again, even more violently then before, but only for a brief while. Soon the spasms stop… as does his breathing. You don’t have to be a doctor to realize what happened. Houndour understands as well, and resumes howling in despair and sadness.

You haphazardly try to calm him down, petting him behind the ears, but – understandably – it doesn’t work. The dog is devastated, and perhaps it’s best to let him grieve on his own… You limp over to the desk below the window. On top of it is an old-looking book, its red cover worn and scratched. You pick it up and open it on a random page… It’s a journal of some sort.

October 4;
They’re back. There were five of them this time around, with their dogs and their shovels… They started digging around the west graves again; I drove them off as usual, but I’m running out of Molotov… I know they’ll return. But dear Tina, I will keep the grounds safe as we used to when you were still with me. I’ll fight them to my last breath.

You turn over several pages, skimming another entry – it’s dated one month ago.

March 2;
The fog… it’s unbearable. I can hardly breathe; even going outside to pluck weeds from the graves is a chore nowadays. I wonder how long I have left, Tina; how long before I go to you.
It’s been one week since the grave robbers last showed up. Either they’re preparing for one big assault, or they finally found what they were looking for and left. But I doubt it… I’d feel it in my bones if something had been taken.
They’re heartless ones, Tina… When I drove them off last week, I hit some of them with my home-made explosives. They fled like they always do, but one of their Pokemon was wounded… they left him behind. It was a baby Houndour. I just couldn’t leave him behind, even if he belonged to the enemy…
I took him in. I guess he took a liking to me already, and he has no love lost for his former owners, I reckon. I might as well keep him around to help me drive them off in the future. Now to think of a name…
I’ll turn in for the night, Tina. My hand is shaking too much already.

As you prepare to keep reading, something nudges you on the leg – it’s Houndour. He’s stopped wailing, although the sadness inside him is still more than evident. You decide to keep the journal; if anything, it might be a helpful companion while walking the Graveyard. You obtain 1x Gravekeeper’s Diary.

Houndour motions toward the bedside table, which has a small drawer. You open it, and inside find some medication, just like the man had said…. Your leg hurts even more, and you’re starting to feel chilly. Could be you’re running a fever.

You’re tired, ill and in pain, and deeply shook by all the events that just transpired, including the death of the old man right in front of your eyes. But you need to keep a level head and plan your next move. It seems the gravekeeper had been struggling with thieves for a while now, and with him gone the Graveyard is theirs for the plundering. On the other hand, you need to look after yourself and find your partner…

What do you do?

OOC: Noted, Sorry. Is this alright?

The Houndour licked Michael's leg in apology, bringing a smile to both the Gentlemans and the teens face. The smiles were brief, however, as the Old Man fell into another coughing fit. Even though his leg burned, Michael helped the man up, and led him into his bedroom. A small candle illuminated the room, lifting Michael's spirit just a little. With help from Houndour, Michael aided the man onto his bed. The man struggled out a few more sentences.

"You… you’re a remarkable young man, you are. I’m s… sorry you had to meet us in these cir…circumstances. I am the Graveyard’s guardian, the… the Gravekeeper. I’ve been keeping watch over these grounds for over… how long now?... Well over fifty years, that I’m sure of…"

'A lot more than fifty years, by the look of things. But how? Houndour looks too young!' Michael thought to himself. The Gravekeeper continued,

"I used to know the Graveyard like the back of my hand… But so much… so much has changed recently. Even the fog has grown vile… and them…"

The Gravekeeper had another coughing fit. Michael started to worry. He looked around, trying to find anything that could help the keeper.

"Them… Houndour and I have been keeping them… keeping them away as we can, but I’m so old… so tired and weak… I can’t anymore. Houndour, come here boy."

Michael watched as the Houndour wandered over to his master. The keeper whispered something to the dog, who howled in response. That served to lower Michael's flickering hope. The elder readdressed Michael.

"Young man… I believe in fate. Do you? You must… must’ve been brought to me for a reason. My time is up…. But I’d like you to take the book on… on that desk. Give it a look, and… and decide accordingly. Whatever you do, it’s… been a pleasure to meet you before I…"

With that, the Gravekeeper had his final coughing spasm, and died. Michael fell to his knees. A spike of pain ran through his leg, but he didn't care. He was too busy pounding the ground.

The teen was about to restart his crying, when he realized that Houndour was howling again. Michael crawled over to the pup, and tried to calm him down, but he just wouldn't stop. So the teen stood up again, and wandered over to the book the Gravekeeper told him to read. He opened it, and read.

October 4;
They’re back. There were five of them this time around, with their dogs and their shovels… They started digging around the west graves again; I drove them off as usual, but I’m running out of Molotov… I know they’ll return. But dear Tina, I will keep the grounds safe as we used to when you were still with me. I’ll fight them to my last breath.

'Digging up graves? Like Graverobbers... but who on earth is Tina?'

The boy jumped forward a few pages. He stopped on a page dated a month ago.

March 2;
The fog… it’s unbearable. I can hardly breathe; even going outside to pluck weeds from the graves is a chore nowadays. I wonder how long I have left, Tina; how long before I go to you.
It’s been one week since the grave robbers last showed up. Either they’re preparing for one big assault, or they finally found what they were looking for and left. But I doubt it… I’d feel it in my bones if something had been taken.
They’re heartless ones, Tina… When I drove them off last week, I hit some of them with my home-made explosives. They fled like they always do, but one of their Pokemon was wounded… they left him behind. It was a baby Houndour. I just couldn’t leave him behind, even if he belonged to the enemy…
I took him in. I guess he took a liking to me already, and he has no love lost for his former owners, I reckon. I might as well keep him around to help me drive them off in the future. Now to think of a name…
I’ll turn in for the night, Tina. My hand is shaking too much already.

The teen looked back at the howling Houndour. He pitied the dog.

'No name, and abandoned by robbers... I would have done the same. The gravekeeper must have been the only one who loved the poor guy...'

His thoughts were interrupted by the Houndour nudging his leg. The dog motioned to a nearby dresser, from which Michael took some medication. After ingesting some of it, Michael picked up the Gravekeeper's Diary, and put it in his bag. He turned to the Houndour. The boy had his trademark absentminded smile on again, his way of dealing with the stress. But there was a hint of madness in his eyes.

"Well Houndour... There are Graverobbers about, and my Panpour is lost out there in the Graveyard, a potential target. It's time for me to play a little game of Hide and go Seek."

He started to walk out of the cottage, but turned back to the Houndour.

"I know this is a terrible time to ask, but I don't know my way through this place. Could you help me be the seeker? We can find those Graverobbers, and then...,"

The boys eye twitched.

"If they've hurt Blue... well... I'll hurt them. I don't care about what happens to me, just as long as he's safe. Your master has protected this Graveyard for over 50 years. I swear now, I will not let his work go in vain. You do not have to help me of course, you may stay here with him. But, Mr Wolf, you can count on me to help him. I shall be... The Gravekeeper's Descendant."

Michaels speech made no sense of course, his habit of babbling had returned. But the message was clear. He was asking for the Houndour to help him.

It's taco time!

Mediville

MarbleZone – ((Don’t worry about it. I intend to have fun with this adventure, and I hope you do, as well~))

At first, Levin is despondent about the situation he finds himself in. He darkly muses over the fact that he’s not even able to make it out the door without something strange and surreal occurring. The dream, though filled with familiar faces, was also filled with threats… painful memories, deceased loved ones and subconscious fears and doubts all threatened to manifest themselves here in this world, and Levin knew full well how dangerous it was to entertain the darker side of his mind. Despite his desire for an easy escape, Levin cannot seem to open his physical eyes, since the eyes of his dream self are wide open, and he has difficulty shifting between the two. How does one awaken when they already feel more or less awake? This certainly was no ordinary dream, and no ordinary state of mind. Even if he couldn’t master the art of waking, however, he could master the dream in which he found himself… He had his Pokemon with him, after all, even if they were in dream form. He wonders if his Pokemon will have any inkling of what adventures they go through in this illusion of Mediville, since this was Levin’s dream and Levin’s alone; his Pokemon would likely not be aware of anything that occurs in it. Even so… there was a freedom the dream afforded that he could achieve nowhere else. A sense of power and control over the world that no one else could even imagine… The dream was his to carve and mold into a kingdom of his own design. Perhaps he had been viewing this opportunity with the wrong perspective. After all, he could always summon Calandra back from the shifting crowd and… Well, perhaps there would be some time for that later on. For now, Levin would content himself with traveling down the eternal road of the subconscious, intent on finding out what such a journey would have in store for him.

A familiar taco truck sits on the side of the road, as the pimple-faced man in the taco suit urges the crowd to buy some delicious tacos. Levin cannot help but laugh to himself as the man in the taco suit shifts to Ruby in a taco suit, shouting to the crowd that extra guacamole is free today for LOCO LUNES. After receiving some amusement from the sight, Levin presses onward, admiring the buildings which rise out of his memories and onto the street, from the cozy storefront of the local Pokemart to the Pieli Harbor Ice Cream Shop, which weave themselves in-between storefronts more typical of Mediville. As Levin admires his surroundings, however, he is suddenly stopped, not by a familiar face, but an unfamiliar one. A young boy, about ten years of age, stops in his tracks and stares up at Levin with curious blue eyes.

“Hey, mister,” the boy starts, “Um… you wouldn’t happen to have seen a Ralts around here, would you? I keep seeing one around, but it teleports away whenever I try to go up to it…” The boy kicks at the ground, and looks down the moment he stops speaking, apparently a little shy. Was he a part of the dream, too…?

How will Levin respond?

Forest of Adventure

Missingno. Master – Keith found it a lot easier to relax around Itzal and Tzila when the former was not holding a sharp knife to his throat. Given the fact that they had already figured out that Keith was immune to poison, it was only a matter of time before his secret was no longer concealed from them. Though Myrtle protests Keith’s decision to reveal his true nature to these two poison drinkers, she admits (though reluctantly) that Keith is probably right to think that the black-clad pair were mere steps away from figuring the closely-guarded information out for themselves.

Itzal and Tzila briefly glance at one another as Keith questions if they are “part Pokemon,” like he was, exchanging a look of slight confusion. “Part Pokemon…?” Tzila trails off, seeming confused by the very thought.

“Well, I suppose if you consider the fact that we have been consuming the poison of our Pokemon since we were very young, that could be possible. The immunities bestowed upon us, and indeed, our very blood, has a part of them within us. In that sense, I suppose you could say that we are.” Itzal looks contemplative for a moment, as he regards Keith. “There is something… odd about you, to be sure. That would explain it, I suppose. I am to assume, then, that the poison within you is not from the constant inhalation of Gastly smog, but from a smog that you yourself produce? …Fascinating.” Despite the darkness of Itzal’s eyes, they seem to light up. “You simply must join us, then.”

“What?!” Tzila’s eyes also seem to flare up, but with a feeling far more intense and negative than Itzal’s. Itzal’s Drapion, too, seems immediately angered by the suggestion, though the large bug-type lets Tzila do the talking for her. “No trials? No initiation? Just… just join us, right here and now? What about the sacred traditions? We can’t just ignore the Rites of Passage-“

“The Rites of Passage are for those who do not yet possess the immunities that their Pokemon will bestow upon them. This man, just by virtue of existing, breaks tradition. Why initiate him when he is already, in his own way, initiated? He is ready to work.”

“You wouldn’t expect him, would you?” Itzal cackles a bit. “That’s the beauty of it.” Itzal turns to Keith, pulling another knife out from his pocket; this knife carries no poison, but appears just as sharp. Turning the blade hilt-out, he extends the hilt to Keith. “So, cowboy… You ever killed someone before?” Itzal smirks beneath his cloth mask. “Ever wanted to? This is your chance.”

“How do we know he’s not gonna turn into some kinda psychopath?” Tzila swipes the knife away before Keith so much has a chance to take it. “Just giving a knife to a random stranger…” Tzila turns toward Keith, her posture and gaze rigid and stern. “Look, we don’t just kill anyone we want. Itzal might give you that impression, but we have standards and practices that we follow. ..” Tzila sighs. “How about this… We make our way back to the hideout, and once we’re there, we can tell you more about the clan and how we operate. IF you’re not some psycho, and IF you’re willing to work with us…” Tzila leers somewhat to add to this point, “…then we will give you a target and see how you fare. We have a Pokemon at the hideout now that’s a strong producer of toxin who’s in need of a partner, but we have yet to find a partner who can handle her… Or who can drink her toxin without dying in five minutes.”

Itzal and Tzila suddenly turn in the direction of the forest behind them without warning; their Pokemon, too, seem strangely intrigued by a sound in the distance. Soon, Keith is also aware of the blaring sound of some kind of theme song relating to Tacos, as a white vehicle with “TACO TIME” written in big, red letters on the side somehow manages to crash through the trees in front of the three trainers and their Pokemon, driving by as if on a clear, obstacle-free road. The truck drives off and disappears almost as soon as it had appeared, leaving Itzal scratching his head with a puzzled expression, while Tzila merely sighs, muttering about how weird the forest seems to have gotten these days.

How will Keith respond?

Son_of_Shadows – As the pair approach the berry bush, a large, white vehicle zooms through the forest at top speed, a crazy theme song about tacos blasting from within. Trucy is momentarily startled by a bag of something being thrown at her, which she manages to catch given her superior reflexes as a psychic type. As the vehicle drives off into the distance, the pair can only assume that a random taco truck is making its way through the forest for some reason. From the smell of the greasy bag, it seems as if the pair has been gifted with breakfast tacos. At least breakfast was no longer an issue… If they trusted tacos from a maniacal taco truck, that is.

Either way, there was the matter of the strange Metapod that had fallen from the gust of wind; at first, Joshua thinks to himself that he should get away from this clearly unnatural being, and yet, as usual, his curiosity gets the better of him. Even if this cocoon was somehow dangerous, the chances of coming across such a phenomenon again were likely to be slim, and Joshua cannot help but wonder what could have caused the strange appearance of the pupa Pokemon. As he lifts the shell up to examine it, Joshua becomes aware of a large rip in the shell, yet something was still inside the cocoon, which discounts the possibility of this shell being merely an empty castoff. The rip appears to be dotted with blood, and Joshua can only assume that the object inside is more than likely the deceased occupant. Perhaps something had torn the cocoon open in order to get at the developing Pokemon inside, only to have been interrupted…

The rip suddenly glows a pale white from within; before Joshua can so much as react with surprise, however, his mind is filled with visions of the grove with its single, large berry bush, filled with light and life; flocks of Butterfree fly around the bush, gorging themselves on ripe berries while enjoying the fresh Spring air. Young Caterpie also flock to the bush, eating whatever they can reach. In his mind’s eye, Joshua can see a pair of Caterpie sisters, one of whom evolves right before her sister’s eyes; the Caterpie sister looks up as her Metapod sister strings herself into the tree. Other Caterpie evolve around her, but the Caterpie sister remains unevolved, which seems to fill the poor creature with sadness.

The vision then shifts to nighttime. In the silence of the forest, a lone figure stalks through the trees where the Metapod reside; the sounds that issue forth from the cocoons are a series of indescribable bug-like screams of pain and terror, as the figure presumably harvests the pupae from their cocoons, given the ever-growing pile of insect-like bodies the figure collects under its arm. The young Caterpie, awakened by the sound of screaming, attempts in vain to climb up the tree and stop the figure from harming her family. The figure turns and notices the Caterpie, who cries out in alarm. The vision abruptly ends, and the rip expands somewhat to form an arrow, pointing deeper into the grove, as the glowing begins to cease, and whatever strange power existed within the cocoon fades away... perhaps the remnants of a spirit or soul that still clung to the cocoon in hopes of transmitting this message. For some reason, the life cycle has ended for this troupe of Butterfree… This deceased Metapod seems to want you to figure out why. There is also the matter of the Caterpie sister, whose fate is apparently unclear.

Missingno. Master – Keith found it a lot easier to relax around Itzal and Tzila when the former was not holding a sharp knife to his throat. Given the fact that they had already figured out that Keith was immune to poison, it was only a matter of time before his secret was no longer concealed from them. Though Myrtle protests Keith’s decision to reveal his true nature to these two poison drinkers, she admits (though reluctantly) that Keith is probably right to think that the black-clad pair were mere steps away from figuring the closely-guarded information out for themselves.

Itzal and Tzila briefly glance at one another as Keith questions if they are “part Pokemon,” like he was, exchanging a look of slight confusion. “Part Pokemon…?” Tzila trails off, seeming confused by the very thought.

“Well, I suppose if you consider the fact that we have been consuming the poison of our Pokemon since we were very young, that could be possible. The immunities bestowed upon us, and indeed, our very blood, has a part of them within us. In that sense, I suppose you could say that we are.” Itzal looks contemplative for a moment, as he regards Keith. “There is something… odd about you, to be sure. That would explain it, I suppose. I am to assume, then, that the poison within you is not from the constant inhalation of Gastly smog, but from a smog that you yourself produce? …Fascinating.” Despite the darkness of Itzal’s eyes, they seem to light up. “You simply must join us, then.”

“What?!” Tzila’s eyes also seem to flare up, but with a feeling far more intense and negative than Itzal’s. Itzal’s Drapion, too, seems immediately angered by the suggestion, though the large bug-type lets Tzila do the talking for her. “No trials? No initiation? Just… just join us, right here and now? What about the sacred traditions? We can’t just ignore the Rites of Passage-“

“The Rites of Passage are for those who do not yet possess the immunities that their Pokemon will bestow upon them. This man, just by virtue of existing, breaks tradition. Why initiate him when he is already, in his own way, initiated? He is ready to work.”

“You wouldn’t expect him, would you?” Itzal cackles a bit. “That’s the beauty of it.” Itzal turns to Keith, pulling another knife out from his pocket; this knife carries no poison, but appears just as sharp. Turning the blade hilt-out, he extends the hilt to Keith. “So, cowboy… You ever killed someone before?” Itzal smirks beneath his cloth mask. “Ever wanted to? This is your chance.”

“How do we know he’s not gonna turn into some kinda psychopath?” Tzila swipes the knife away before Keith so much has a chance to take it. “Just giving a knife to a random stranger…” Tzila turns toward Keith, her posture and gaze rigid and stern. “Look, we don’t just kill anyone we want. Itzal might give you that impression, but we have standards and practices that we follow. ..” Tzila sighs. “How about this… We make our way back to the hideout, and once we’re there, we can tell you more about the clan and how we operate. IF you’re not some psycho, and IF you’re willing to work with us…” Tzila leers somewhat to add to this point, “…then we will give you a target and see how you fare. We have a Pokemon at the hideout now that’s a strong producer of toxin who’s in need of a partner, but we have yet to find a partner who can handle her… Or who can drink her toxin without dying in five minutes.”

Itzal and Tzila suddenly turn in the direction of the forest behind them without warning; their Pokemon, too, seem strangely intrigued by a sound in the distance. Soon, Keith is also aware of the blaring sound of some kind of theme song relating to Tacos, as a white vehicle with “TACO TIME” written in big, red letters on the side somehow manages to crash through the trees in front of the three trainers and their Pokemon, driving by as if on a clear, obstacle-free road. The truck drives off and disappears almost as soon as it had appeared, leaving Itzal scratching his head with a puzzled expression, while Tzila merely sighs, muttering about how weird the forest seems to have gotten these days.

How will Keith respond?

Itzal and Tzila looked a little confused as Keith asked whether they were part Pokemon, and stated that they had simply been consuming the poison of their own Pokemon from a very young age. Itzal then asked if he was correct in the assumption that the poison within Keith was not a result of inhaling Gastly smog, but rather the result of the poison he himself produced. Keith nodded in response, and then Itzal stated that he had to join them. Whoever "them" was, Keith still wasn't quite sure, but Tzila seemed to be somewhat opposed to the idea of Keith joining them without trials or an initiation. Tzila argued that Keith was already ready to work for them, at which Tzila remarked that Keith did not look especially stealthy. Itzal asked if Keith had ever killed somebody, or if he ever wanted to, offering him a knife. Tzila, however, swiped it away before Keith could even think of how to react, and explained to Keith that whatever Itzal implied to the contrary, they didn't just kill anyone. She made an offer to Keith- they would bring him back to their hideout, tell him more about their clan, and then, provided he wasn't some psycho and was willing to work with them, they would give him a target and see how he would fare.

Keith gave this some thought. He was no murderer, but then, they did say that they didn't just commit indiscriminate acts of murder... clearly, whoever their targets were, there were reasons behind their being chosen. Keith figured, overall, that it couldn't hurt to at least see what they were all about before making any kind of decision...

And then, a white truck came crashing through the forest, driving through, smashing through the trees as though it was driving on a road free of obstacles. "What the..." Keith murmured as he watched the strange and random truck drive off.

"What the **** was that?" Myrtle demanded.

"...Anyway," Keith continued, turning back to face Itzal and Tzila, "All right. I'll come with you guys, see how you operate."

"I sup-pose it would not be the worst i-de-a you have e-ver had," Myrtle grudgingly admitted, floating next to Keith.

MarbleZone – ((Don’t worry about it. I intend to have fun with this adventure, and I hope you do, as well~))

At first, Levin is despondent about the situation he finds himself in. He darkly muses over the fact that he’s not even able to make it out the door without something strange and surreal occurring. The dream, though filled with familiar faces, was also filled with threats… painful memories, deceased loved ones and subconscious fears and doubts all threatened to manifest themselves here in this world, and Levin knew full well how dangerous it was to entertain the darker side of his mind. Despite his desire for an easy escape, Levin cannot seem to open his physical eyes, since the eyes of his dream self are wide open, and he has difficulty shifting between the two. How does one awaken when they already feel more or less awake? This certainly was no ordinary dream, and no ordinary state of mind. Even if he couldn’t master the art of waking, however, he could master the dream in which he found himself… He had his Pokemon with him, after all, even if they were in dream form. He wonders if his Pokemon will have any inkling of what adventures they go through in this illusion of Mediville, since this was Levin’s dream and Levin’s alone; his Pokemon would likely not be aware of anything that occurs in it. Even so… there was a freedom the dream afforded that he could achieve nowhere else. A sense of power and control over the world that no one else could even imagine… The dream was his to carve and mold into a kingdom of his own design. Perhaps he had been viewing this opportunity with the wrong perspective. After all, he could always summon Calandra back from the shifting crowd and… Well, perhaps there would be some time for that later on. For now, Levin would content himself with traveling down the eternal road of the subconscious, intent on finding out what such a journey would have in store for him.

A familiar taco truck sits on the side of the road, as the pimple-faced man in the taco suit urges the crowd to buy some delicious tacos. Levin cannot help but laugh to himself as the man in the taco suit shifts to Ruby in a taco suit, shouting to the crowd that extra guacamole is free today for LOCO LUNES. After receiving some amusement from the sight, Levin presses onward, admiring the buildings which rise out of his memories and onto the street, from the cozy storefront of the local Pokemart to the Pieli Harbor Ice Cream Shop, which weave themselves in-between storefronts more typical of Mediville. As Levin admires his surroundings, however, he is suddenly stopped, not by a familiar face, but an unfamiliar one. A young boy, about ten years of age, stops in his tracks and stares up at Levin with curious blue eyes.

“Hey, mister,” the boy starts, “Um… you wouldn’t happen to have seen a Ralts around here, would you? I keep seeing one around, but it teleports away whenever I try to go up to it…” The boy kicks at the ground, and looks down the moment he stops speaking, apparently a little shy. Was he a part of the dream, too…?

How will Levin respond?

((I'm sure we both will; thanks for putting in the effort, hopefully I'll live up to it. ^^))

To his recollection, none of the lucid dreams his acquaintances claimed to have experienced were anything like this. This felt more like a really heavy trip than a dream - not that he was complaining.

The "reality" around him was ever-shifting, bits and pieces of his memories mixed in with fragments of the actual town of Mediville; the roads themselves went on forever, to the point where he could no longer tell if he was actually moving forward. Still, there was no shortage of entertainment to be had. From the Pieli Harbour Ice Cream Shop, where Levin had started one of his very first adventures, to the familiar face of Taco Truck Guy - who, to this day, Levin still wasn't sure was real -, followed by Taco Tyrant Ruby... I always did do a pretty good job of amusing myself.

Still, despite the constant changes around him, from people to buildings, and the number of curious and nostalgic images that crossed his eyes, Levin found himself unable to just let go. The "why" was always there in the back of his mind; both not knowing what set off this crazy dream and wondering if he'd ever really awaken made it hard for the young man to completely immerse himself in this new realm. A shame too, with all the potential behind a world entirely controlled by the power of his own mind. If only he'd be willing to let go of those nagging concerns, how much sheer, unadulterated fun could he have?

- Hey mister!

Levin stopped abruptly. As he mused, he failed to notice a young boy, no older than ten, walking up to him. But more awkward than that was the fact that this kid was a complete stranger to him. Not wholly uncommon in a regular dream, but here?

- Um… you wouldn’t happen to have seen a Ralts around here, would you? I keep seeing one around, but it teleports away whenever I try to go up to it…

No kid, I haven't. I don't dream about other people's pets. That's what he would have answered, but then again, he didn't usually dream about ten-year-old boys either... Wow. Things just got a whole lot more awkward from that perspective.

- Sorry kid. Can't say I have.

Part of him wanted to help the boy, though. The question brought him back when he himself was just 10. His parents didn't let him go on his journey then, unlike most other kids, afraid that he'd end up like Ivan. That meant all he could do was sit at home and play those Pokemon games... and man, did he ever try catching those damn pixelated Abra, who did nothing but Teleport away. He didn't even like Abra, but that was a direct challenge! Clearly, he'd been a competitive person from a very young age.

- My turn to ask a question, but since I'm older, I get two. Who are you, and why are you after a Ralts?

It was strange not knowing all the answers in a dream that he controlled. Hopefully he could fix that.

Son_of_Shadows – As the pair approach the berry bush, a large, white vehicle zooms through the forest at top speed, a crazy theme song about tacos blasting from within. Trucy is momentarily startled by a bag of something being thrown at her, which she manages to catch given her superior reflexes as a psychic type. As the vehicle drives off into the distance, the pair can only assume that a random taco truck is making its way through the forest for some reason. From the smell of the greasy bag, it seems as if the pair has been gifted with breakfast tacos. At least breakfast was no longer an issue… If they trusted tacos from a maniacal taco truck, that is.

Either way, there was the matter of the strange Metapod that had fallen from the gust of wind; at first, Joshua thinks to himself that he should get away from this clearly unnatural being, and yet, as usual, his curiosity gets the better of him. Even if this cocoon was somehow dangerous, the chances of coming across such a phenomenon again were likely to be slim, and Joshua cannot help but wonder what could have caused the strange appearance of the pupa Pokemon. As he lifts the shell up to examine it, Joshua becomes aware of a large rip in the shell, yet something was still inside the cocoon, which discounts the possibility of this shell being merely an empty castoff. The rip appears to be dotted with blood, and Joshua can only assume that the object inside is more than likely the deceased occupant. Perhaps something had torn the cocoon open in order to get at the developing Pokemon inside, only to have been interrupted…

The rip suddenly glows a pale white from within; before Joshua can so much as react with surprise, however, his mind is filled with visions of the grove with its single, large berry bush, filled with light and life; flocks of Butterfree fly around the bush, gorging themselves on ripe berries while enjoying the fresh Spring air. Young Caterpie also flock to the bush, eating whatever they can reach. In his mind’s eye, Joshua can see a pair of Caterpie sisters, one of whom evolves right before her sister’s eyes; the Caterpie sister looks up as her Metapod sister strings herself into the tree. Other Caterpie evolve around her, but the Caterpie sister remains unevolved, which seems to fill the poor creature with sadness.

The vision then shifts to nighttime. In the silence of the forest, a lone figure stalks through the trees where the Metapod reside; the sounds that issue forth from the cocoons are a series of indescribable bug-like screams of pain and terror, as the figure presumably harvests the pupae from their cocoons, given the ever-growing pile of insect-like bodies the figure collects under its arm. The young Caterpie, awakened by the sound of screaming, attempts in vain to climb up the tree and stop the figure from harming her family. The figure turns and notices the Caterpie, who cries out in alarm. The vision abruptly ends, and the rip expands somewhat to form an arrow, pointing deeper into the grove, as the glowing begins to cease, and whatever strange power existed within the cocoon fades away... perhaps the remnants of a spirit or soul that still clung to the cocoon in hopes of transmitting this message. For some reason, the life cycle has ended for this troupe of Butterfree… This deceased Metapod seems to want you to figure out why. There is also the matter of the Caterpie sister, whose fate is apparently unclear.

How will Joshua react?

As Joshua bent down to grab the cocoon, a bizarre theme song began to blare through the forest. Huh. Maybe that was why the creatures had cleared off. It sounded like whatever was responsible was singing about... tacos? Oh come on now, that was just ridiculous and impossible, even by the standards of Joshua's adventures... Or so he thought, until a white truck sped past them at a grossly reckless and irresponsible velocity, given the obstacles in the forest, throwing a greasy brown bag to Trucy as it did so. From the smell of it, it did indeed contain tacos. Breakfast tacos. "Trucy..." Joshua began, but the Kadabra just shrugged. She was as clueless as he was. How would she have even ordered tacos anyway? To the middle of a forest, no less. "Truce, I suspect it's going to be one of those days. Brace yourself for weirdness. More than usual, I mean. That said, free breakfast tacos. I'm surprisingly ok with this development.

"That said, they're probably poisoned, given our luck," he admitted with a sigh. "But they smell so good..." Joshua's stomach rumbled. But he would have time for tacos in a moment. He was still in the middle of investigating the mysterious cocoon, after all! Closer inspection revealed that it was definitely a Metapod, but one that had met a rather sticky end before it could hatch into a Butterfree. The cocoon itself had been torn open, presumably by something attempting to get at the contents. And yet the contents remained - definitely remained. Joshua could smell them, and he could see the blood around the rim of the rip. Suddenly, he was losing his appetite. But why had the contents been left in the cocoon? It didn't make sense - why go to the bother of getting in otherwise? Perhaps the perpetrator had been interrupted? Something strong enough to rip open a Metapod cocoon like paper was surely strong enough not to be bothered by your average interruption. Curiouser and curiouser... Joshua scratched his chin in thought. Quite a mystery on his hands.

One that was about to become slightly clearer, at any rate.

The rip in the cocoon began to glow. What was happening? Was the specimen not quite dead, and suddenly evolving? Now that would be quite the miracle... But what was actually occurring was far, far stranger than Joshua could imagine. The cocoon appeared to be giving him a vision of the forest from the past. A swarm of Butterfree, and the younger forms of its evolutionary line were flocking around this berry bush, enjoying its tasty treats. At least the berries were safe to eat. It was such a happy time, a wonderful showcase of the world of the insect Pokémon, and the peace of this forest. The vision centred on a pair of Caterpies, female ones by the look of their markings. Before his mind's eye, one Caterpie evolved into a Metapod, and raised herself into the trees above for protection. The other was sadly left alone, unable to evolve. He felt a pang of sympathy for the poor worm, but surely it wouldn't be too long before she caught up at least. Most Bug Pokémon grow so quickly after all (though Joshua's only Bug type, Rydia the Venonat, was one of the exceptions to this pattern).

The vision moved on now, and darkness fell. The forest became silent once more... Mostly, minus the footsteps of one lone figure. Joshua couldn't tell anything about them however; they were cloaked in shadow. All at once, the air was filled with a horrific cacophony of painful screams. He realised what was going on - the Metapod were being horrifically extracted from their cocoons by this figure. For what purpose, he had no idea, but it was truly sickening. Was this figure some kind of monster? An unethical scientist? A predator? Why on earth was this horrific procedure necessary? The unevolved Caterpie from earlier in the vision was frantically climbing the tree, in a desperate attempt to defend her family - but what could she do against this much larger foe? When it noticed her, all she could do was cry out - ending the vision for Joshua, who collapsed, panting. That... was about as weird as things got. He'd dropped the dead Metapod in shock, but it still had more to say - the rip in the cocoon had expanded and taken the shape of an arrow, pointing further into the forest. Presumably, that was where he would find more answers. But that was the end of the Metapod's message, as it stopped glowing and returned to eternal slumber. Trucy came to Joshua's side, in an attempt to take care of her master.

"Kad! Kadabab?"

"I... I'm fine..." He was still shaken. "That was... How... I..." Joshua and Trucy sat back against the tree, taking a few minutes to regain their composure. Surprisingly, the tacos helped bring them back to reality a bit. Nice to have something in the stomach again of course. When they'd calmed down again, Joshua rose. He intended to get to the bottom of this mystery, and avenge the harvested Metapod.

"So the ghost of a Metapod used the last of its power to give us this message. We can't let it be in vain, Trucy. This grove is tainted by whatever's gone on here. Maybe we can find a way to bring the Butterfree back to this place. It's time to go. Keep your guard up, and we'll go with caution... I have the feeling that the figure from the vision won't take kindly to us." And so, the trainer and his Kadabra set off in the direction that the Metapod's arrow pointed, resolute in their decision to restore the balance of nature to the forest.

OOC: 2 updates in and this is already one of my favourite adventures in FB. Maybe this mandatory Arcane Realm thing wasn't such a bad idea...

Originally Posted by scytherdude30
no no no you need an empoleon as your powerhouse da listen to me man I AM THE BOMB

Originally Posted by Zincspider

Yes, someone is getting 'killed'... HOORAY FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!....

Thomas sat on the outskirts of the forest on the soft grass, wondering how he was going about searching for those elusive Pokemon. Shroomish and Nincada live in the dark, dense undergrowth... so that would be fairly deep in, right? Wouldn't the forest be denser the further in we go? He wished he had somebody to ask about all this, but his only companion, Mary, was running around, training herself whilst enjoying the scenery in a very un-Meditite-like manner. I doubt she know anything about forest biodiversity, he thought with a smirk as she started a new exercise - lunges. Usually she meditated in her free time, trying to enhance her budding psychic powers, but Thomas supposed that it was such a good day that not even Meditite could bear to stay still.

Thomas continued thinking about the Pokemon he wished to catch... Well, Ninjask is so fast, and Breloom is pretty cool too... though, is it smart to put two fighting-type Pokemon in the same team? Especially adding one that was twice as weak to flying-type Pokemon? After a few minutes of pondering and watching Mary contentedly enjoying her work-out, Thomas jumped up, instantly gaining his friend's attention.

"Come on, we'll head right into the center, we might find them there."

Nodding, Mary jumped to attention and ran over to Thomas' side as they began to walk into the mystical forest.